Seleya: Vacation on Risa
by MP - Mary Contrary
Summary: After their harrowing adventure on Kohl'ashkar station, and a further six months just saving up enough to afford it, the crew of the Seleya have finally arrived on Risa for their much anticipated vacation. Now, if only they could remember how much fun they had...and where T'Pol left her jacket. And why so many people seem intent on killing them. (Sequel to "Seleya") (on hiatus)
1. Chapter 1

**_Seleya_  
****Private Freighter Vessel  
****Epsilon Ceti B  
Nuvia City, Risa**

Loya sat at the smaller table, the gaming table, in the ship lounge. She hummed as she methodically broke down the PC-22a 'Peacemaker' plasma pistol. Broke it down, arranging the pieces around the table before her, before reaching and flipping open the small maintenance kit at the edge of the table.

Taking each piece, along with the corresponding tool, and beginning the long, comfortable process of cleaning, maintaining and reassembling the weapon.

Human weapons were typically the best, she mused. And being among a mostly Human crew and no longer surrounded by her own people all the time, she didn't have to pretend otherwise. The Orion people had many accomplishments and many areas they could take pride in. Weapons, though…Humans were the best at that. Maybe not as technologically advanced as some other species, including her own really, but very good at weapons.

She liked doing work like this. It was…comforting. Something rote and familiar, something she'd done a thousand times. She was able to free up a large part of her mind for other things. To think about things that she didn't usually have time to sit around and think about.

The Vulcan captain kept them very busy. She was very good at keeping them busy. And Loya was fairly sure this was because she thought they might get into trouble if they weren't busy all of the time.

And that was probably true.

Another reason she liked weapons maintenance. If the captain came along she would only look over, see that she was busy doing something 'logical' and then keep going on with doing captainy things. She wouldn't stop and make her scrub the cargo bay walls or cleaning out the lockers or do diagnostic maintenance on the sensor systems…or run down the manifest in the cargo bay _again_, since the captain had got it in her head somehow that _she _should be in charge of cargo.

And besides. She couldn't seem to make the captain understand that men were _real _work. That that was the _important _work for a woman. Not all of those other things.

It was a little crazy how she didn't seem to get that.

And it was funny. After everything that happened she was mostly just glad to get away from _Kohl'ashkar_. Then all of a sudden she got bored and horny and decided Malcolm was the only one available she wouldn't get in some nasty fight over. And then he stuck around the next day, so they did it again a couple more times.

Then he was just around all the time and did nice things for her. And he was nice to her and she liked having him around her and they talked about things. And they did it some more, which was nice.

Then he was just…hers. Just like that, somehow.

And all of a sudden she had a man. One that was for really _hers_. It was kind of crazy.

Now she couldn't seem to find the time to do all the work she _should _be doing. She should be keeping her man in line. That should be her job here.

Keep him in shape, making sure he was educated and had everything he needed. Encouraging him to make goals and push to achieve them. Helping him to be better and stronger and smarter, instead of just being fat and lazy and stupid, like men were when they didn't have a woman to make something out of them.

T'Pol didn't seem to get that. Hoshi neither. It was weird. How were things supposed to work right around here if the women were always doing stuff and not keeping the men in line? This ship would work a lot better if the women weren't acting like men all the time. That was just weird.

So she was thinking about the tough position she was in here. And it wasn't _just _that Malcolm was a very important person for the ship and that her job should be to make sure he was the _best _for the ship that he could be. It was also that…

Well, she didn't smell right. So he might not be hers anymore if she didn't keep him in line, and that was going to happen sooner or later. That could happen any time. As soon as they stepped off the ship, maybe even, and some other woman who smelled right got him. Or…whatever you call it when some alien woman took a man.

Someone could take him away from her. So easily. She didn't have any way to hold on to him at all.

So she should be doing something about that. Finding some way to hold onto him before someone took him away. Instead of doing cargo manifests or cleaning things…or even doing weapon maintenance, really. There just wasn't ever enough time…

The aft doorway cycled and the captain walked into the lounge, coming from the rear section of the ship. Probably passing through the bunk rooms and the galley on the way back from engineering. After probably making sure Trip was busy and not getting into trouble. Heading for the flight deck to be sure Travis was busy and not getting into trouble.

See? That's what she should be doing with Malcolm. The captain was always trying to rule over everyone else's men. Like they were _all _hers, not just the women. That's what a captain _should _do, ruling over the other women while the women ruled over the men. That was how the chain of command worked.

She should jump up and remind the captain that Malcolm was _hers, _maybe.

And then strut off to go make sure Malcolm was busy and not getting into trouble, like she _should _be doing…

The captain was standing there watching her, though. Instead of going on to the flight deck to act like Travis was _her _man.

Loya frowned over at her then.

"What?"

"This is the second time today you've performed preventive maintenance on your weapons, Loya."

Her voice was disapproving. And that grated on Loya's nerves.

She gestured at the pieces of the plasma pistol on the table. And the phase rifle propped against it on the side, waiting to be serviced. And the various blades and the whetstone. And the holdout laser pistol and the flamer and…all the rest of the stuff.

"You want they don't work when you need them to?" Loya challenged.

"I am beginning to suspect you perform weapons maintenance in order to avoid your other duties."

Loya frowned again.

"This _is _my other duties." She insisted. "I should be doing Malcolm now, not this."

T'Pol tossed an eyebrow up at that. And Loya reconsidered her wording…

But yes, that was still pretty right.

The captain hesitated, almost deciding to say something about that…then just turned and went on to the flight deck instead.

Which, good. Go rule over Hoshi's man. Vulcan pain in the butt.

It was less than a minute before Hoshi appeared, coming from the flight deck.

"What she got _you _doing?" Loya asked.

Hoshi smirked a little. "Making lunch. She wants us to all wait until after lunch…"

"_I_ was going to cook the lunch!" Loya protested.

Hoshi looked slightly surprised, stopping to glance over the bits of pieces of deadly weaponry on the table.

"_After _this." Loya added. "You said Human men like if you cook for them."

"Well, sure, I guess. But that's more if you cook for them in particular…"

"I was going to cook a _special _lunch." Loya pouted.

"Oh." Hoshi. "Well…did you tell the captain…?"

Loya gestured wildly, exasperated. "It's not special if you tell everybody!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez!" Hoshi finally exclaimed. "What are you so upset about, Loya?"

"I wanted to cook for Malcolm!" She said, almost desperately. "Before we go out to Risa!"

Hoshi tilted her head a little curiously. A little confused at how agitated Loya was all of a sudden.

"Loya…we're on _Risa_." She smiling. "Don't _cook _for him. Take him out to dinner tonight. Or go dancing. Take him to the beach. There are a million different things to do around here…"

Loya just slumped.

And tossed the power cell she was holding onto the table.

And…plopped her face in her hands, suddenly looking thoroughly dejected.

Hoshi was a little shocked. She half expecting Loya to start _crying _now.

"Loya," She said, carefully. "What's wrong?"

"I wanted to do a nice thing for Malcolm." She said, her voice muffled in hands. "I don't want a Risa woman to take him. So…I just wanted…"

_Oh._

"Oh, Loya." Hoshi said, already moving in to comfort her. "Honey, you need to stop worrying about that so much. Malcolm's a great guy. He isn't going to just run off and fool around on you."

"Someone could _take _him." Loya said, her face still in her hands, elbows planted on her knees.

"Loya…Orions are the only ones that I know of that can do the pheromone thing. You keep forgetting that. No one's just going to walk up and take him away from you."

"But he's _sexy_…and I'm not sexy very much." Loya objected, still muffled. "The Risa women are all sexy."

Hoshi grinned a little. She couldn't help it.

"Loya." She said, admonishing gently. "I don't think you've looked in the mirror recently. You're a real knockout, you know."

Loya sniffled a little.

"Really?"

"Definitely." Hoshi insisted. "And if you weren't so focused on glaring at every woman that comes within a light year of him, you'd probably notice every man in the room zeroes right in on _you _the second you show up."

Loya came out from behind her hands a little. Smiling…just a very little and uncertainly, humored at that.

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is." Hoshi insisted. "And if anybody should be worried about their men around here it's me and T'Pol. In fact, I don't even know why I'm trying to make you feel better. If you figure that out, _we _might be in trouble."

Loya snorted.

Hoshi quirked her mouth a bit, thinking.

"I'll tell you what." She said. "Forget about the captain. You go ahead and make lunch. I'll go recalibrate the transceiver. I'm still not happy with it."

Loya felt bad, but she really liked that idea. She didn't want Hoshi to get into trouble with the captain but…this was _important_.

Hoshi stuck around, cheering her up and making her feel better. And Loya made sure to give her a good hug for taking care of her like that. Then Hoshi went off to do communications stuff, calibrating the transceiver. So Loya gave her weapons a good once over…and none of that was as important, so she just left it there for now.

She got up and headed off, not aft to the galley, but forward. Through the door out of the lounge, into the little space between that and the flight deck. Turning right there to take the ladder at hand down to the cargo bay.

And she went right to the big stack of crates she had lashed down tight there. Because there were forty of them and they weren't locked or anything. Just a bunch of bottles in there that weren't even precisely measured. Obviously just bottled up by hand.

So the client would never miss a few ounces of _t'rarthra _extract.

Then she headed back up, back through the lounge, past the lift and into the galley. There she made sandwiches and tried to figure out what kind of wine would go with the sandwiches. Then she just grabbed one, since they only had three bottles to pick from. They were probably all the same thing, for all she knew.

She poured the _t'rarthra _extract into the bottle, once she'd measured it precisely to be sure. Because it had to be precise. That was important.

Then made her way aft again, past the personal storage lockers to the bunk rooms. Fetching Malcolm from his daily exercise regimen in his bunk to come help serve lunch. And poked her head through the aft door at hand as well, into the engineering room to let Trip to know lunch was ready, and that he should go drag the captain to the lounge to eat.

Then went back to the galley, to wait for Malcolm to carry the heavy stuff.

While she carried the bottle of wine.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Seleya_  
****Private Freighter Vessel  
****Epsilon Ceti B  
Nuvia City, Risa**

T'Pol was on the flight deck, just ending the communication with the client. Pick up would occur tomorrow evening, right here at the dock.

Risian authorities were largely corrupt here, at least in regards to minor things like smuggling. That was convenient, not only because it made delivery such a simple matter but because a trade off in such a public venue was best for all. The likelihood of a possible double cross and the resulting requisite deadly shootout was greatly reduced.

She found herself tentatively confident that this transaction would go relatively smoothly.

She felt Trip coming before he breached the flight deck door. The transmission had ended and she was only mentally reassessing the coming transaction, attempting to discover anything she may have overlooked or forgotten. Looking ahead to be sure she expected everything that could be expected. So she was prepared when the door cycled and he poked his head in.

It was still simultaneously curious and humorous that he'd yet to adjust to communicating through the bond. He could easily have communicated what she clearly could sense he intended to communicate through the bond, rather than walking the entire length of the ship to do so personally. He could have met her in the lounge outside instead.

But there was a certain charm to his having done so, coming to fetch her personally in that way. So she didn't mind and found it amusing enough.

"Lunch, darlin'." He said, brightly. "Let's eat and go have a vacation."

"We still have to complete the transaction tomorrow." She said, turning to face him.

"Tomorrow?" Trip frowned. "Why aren't they coming today? What's the holdup?"

"We arrived too early, apparently." T'Pol, clearly finding that disagreeable.

Trip smirked.

"See? You're too efficient for this line of work." He chuckled.

"But it grants us a marketable reputation." She argued. "Higher paying, more professional clients seek us out for our reliability."

"Well, shake that reliability on out to the lounge with me." He said. "Lunch and then we're off to have fun, right?"

T'Pol hesitated.

"Trip," She said, uncomfortably. "I…realize you may have certain expectations…"

"Nope." Trip said, quickly. "Hopes and dreams. No expectations. Right now I expect the others are chewing at the bit and getting mad we're holding them up."

He jerked a thumb back behind him.

"So…you ready?" He asked, smirking just a little.

She nodded.

And she followed him out into the lounge, where Hoshi and Travis were indeed…'chewing at the bit' in there. Tense, even frowning, at the perceived delay.

She went straight to the dining table on the right side of the room, to stand before it.

"I have contacted the client." She announced. "The exchange will take place here, tomorrow afternoon…"

Travis immediately groaned.

She spared him an eyebrow for that.

"Captain…that means we can't even _do _anything." He complained. "_Galartha _takes at least a whole day to get out to and start climbing."

"And I wanted to see the crystal caves." Hoshi added. "And then I was going to take Travis to the beach."

"We will extend our 'vacation' for another day." She assured them. "As it happens, we arrived earlier than our client expected, so we can justify this."

"That's good!" Loya said, coming in from the aft doorway with a bottle of wine. Leading Malcolm in, his hands full with a huge serving tray.

Turning to start doling out the dishes once he grunted and struggled to get the tray over there without tipping it all over.

Trip snickered. Because Malcolm had his sleeveless shirt on. And everyone knew why.

So Loya could show off his arms, flexing under the weight of the serving tray.

She was in full Orion mode today, apparently.

"Oh, shut up." Malcolm grumped at him.

Which just set Trip _and _Travis snickering at him.

The dishes were passed out soon enough. And the glasses passed around, filled with wine.

"Wine and…egg sandwiches." Trip observed. "Interesting."

"Yes, I know!" Loya grinned. "It's very good."

Trip and Travis exchanged a grin and that. And Hoshi nudged him sharply on the sly, while Loya wasn't looking.

Loya didn't let them drink the wine until she could offer a toast, though. Having picked _that _up from who knows where. And she frowned at T'Pol until she stepped down out of captain mode long enough to relax a bit and sat down herself.

"So don't be mad." Loya said, once everyone was seated. "Because I stole some _t'rarthra _extract from the cargo bay. Put it in the wine."

Everyone's attention jerked there. Then back to Loya, astonished.

"Just enough!" She insisted, before anyone could object. "I measured it perfect. So it's supposed to make you live a whole day longer."

And she steeled herself, waiting for whoever was going to be angry first. So she could _explain_.

"Loya," T'Pol said carefully. "I'm surprised I have to explain to you…"

"I know." Loya fidgeted. "But it's _important_. Because that's a whole day that we don't have before. So…today is a _free _day. And that's…I wanted to give a nice gift. To pay all of you back for…taking me away from _Kohl'ashkar_."

Everyone stared. Not sure whether to be angry or worried…or touched at the gesture.

Ending up finally just looking to T'Pol, to see how _she'd _react.

T'Pol considered the glass critically.

Loya jumped to her own defense after the first tense second.

"It's not measured and it's just in plain bottles." She insisted. "They won't miss it."

T'Pol took a breath.

Raising her glass.

"Very well." She said. "I accept the free day you've offered, gratefully. But we will not make a habit of this, Loya."

Loya nodded vigorously, already grinning and relieved. Yes, of course. Not a habit.

Just on special occasions.

Loya raised her own glass, prompting everyone at the table to raise theirs as well.

"I…don't know how to make good toasts," She said, a little awkwardly. "But…I hope we all have fun and…make good sex today!"

Everyone at the table, with the exception of T'Pol and Malcolm, struggled to sniffle a snicker at that. And they largely succeeded.

Malcolm just looked a little embarrassed, even if that did bring a little bit of a wicked glimmer to his eyes.

T'Pol actually considered the toast, slightly nodded her begrudging acceptance and drank to the toast.

They all did. And they sat together to eat, chatting comfortably with one another. Amusing one another and sharing a good, happy moment together before they paired off or went their separate ways, to see what Risa had to offer them.

Not that they remembered anything beyond roughly ten minutes later.

* * *

T'Pol woke first, laying on the dusty wooden floor of the room. And it took her a moment to identify the comfortable, gently undulating pillow she rested her hand upon…was Trip.

Her head throbbed mildly and she was somewhat disoriented.

She felt…strange. So she took a moment to look around, barely raising her head to do so.

The room was largely constructed of wood of some type. No advanced materials readily notable. Windows set in the three walls she could see from where she lay, either made of glass or some form of clear plastic. All of them caked in old dirt around the borders. So that and the very uncomfortable amount of dust in the air and on the floor established the room had not been made use of or otherwise kept for a very long time.

Her Vulcan Guard jacket was gone. She wasn't wearing it. And Risa was a _Minshara _class planet, so she was just chilly enough to miss it.

That prompted her to finally sit up a bit, leaving the comfortable headrest she'd made of Trip's stomach. To look around and find it…because she could not tolerate losing it.

Travis and Hoshi were cuddled up nearby, Travis having wrapped his arms around her while they slept. His casual coat was gone, replaced by something…composed of rather garish colors and some form of silk. It looked rather ridiculous on him, but she recognized it as a style preferred by Risian royalty. Which…was curious.

Turning her head, still looking for her jacket, she found Malcolm laying on the floor in the other direction, Loya laying directly atop him with her hands poked almost completely through his shirt. One hand poking out of his collar to lay loosely at his neck. She snored slightly.

And Malcolm's face was…damaged. Lips split, one eye clearly blackened and more than one contusion in evidence. The one hand she could see from her position showed minor cuts and abrasions on his knuckles. He'd clearly been involved in some sort of violent altercation.

Loya was…barely dressed. In fact, less than barely dressed. That outfit likely only considered remotely appropriate on Risa and nowhere else.

She had no idea where they were, so she took the full half minute required to stagger unsteadily to her feet. Squinting at the bright light from outside…almost bright enough to trigger her inner eyelid to flick into place of its own accord.

_Morning _light, she recognized then.

Her jacket wasn't in evidence anywhere.

She fumbled at her right pants pocket, drawing the data unit from her pocket.

And she spotted Trip's hand then, where it lay at her feet. Specifically, the new addition to that hand.

She recognized that. A plain golden ring on his left hand.

A wedding ring.

She didn't need to glance at her own hand to know, but she did anyway to be sure.

There was no matching ring on _her _finger.

She flicked her data unit open with one thumb and peering unsteadily until her eyes focused enough to make out the time.

It was 0818. They only had a few hours before they were to meet with their client to make the exchange.

Almost twenty hours had passed since…she couldn't quite remember when last she knew precisely what time it was. But it had been roughly twenty hours.

They only had a few hours before they were to meet the client. And she had no idea where they were.

Or what had happened in the last twenty hours.

Or, most importantly, where her Vulcan Guard officer's jacket was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Unknown location  
****Risa**

T'Pol managed to stagger around the small room, still looking for her jacket, long enough to recover herself somewhat. Enough to reach a state that could confidently be called consciousness.

At which point she realized and recognized that searching for her jacket would perhaps be best served by first figuring out where they were and, as importantly, how they got here.

Because her jacket wasn't here. Therefore, logically, it was elsewhere. Most likely somewhere between the toast at the dinner table in the lounge on the _Seleya _and their current unknown location. The _Seleya _then being the logical place to start looking in earnest.

She had only a few hours to find it.

She wasn't about to meet the client without it. It was an integral part of a very well cultivated and carefully managed professional appearance.

The current room was occupied by little more than dust and sleeping crewmen. So she relocated, out through the open doors to the area outside.

The building she'd just exited was small, she could see. Nothing more than a shack, sitting to the side of a long, open area extending off toward the horizon in both directions. Dense forest bordered either side and the bright, clear Risian sky stretched out overhead.

Another even smaller building sat directly adjacent to the one she'd just come from.

To the side, barely visible from where she stood, a long, black hovercar had been parked in the woods.

Or…more accurately perhaps, _crashed _in the woods. Some combination of the two, it would seem. Resting at least several meters beyond the tree line, the front end of the vehicle clearly having impacted a tree.

The roof of the vehicle had been retracted and it sat open to the air now. The various dents and scratches along the exterior, all seemingly fresh, witnessing further to its careless recent handling.

That was all.

There was nothing else out here that she could see.

She turned back to the building, to reenter and rouse the crew, and found Loya standing in the doorway, blinking and yawning. Scratching absently at her stomach with one hand, at her scalp with the other.

"Loya," T'Pol croaked, before she realized it. So she cleared her throat and put some effort into it.

"Wake the others and assemble them." She said, trying again. Meeting with more success this time.

Loya just squinted at her, blinking. Swaying slightly where she stood.

"What?" She eventually responded.

T'Pol was tempted to frown. But Loya was Orion, so she simply pointed to the ground nearby, directly in the sunlight.

"Stand there." She said.

That at least Loya seemed to able to comprehend at the moment. So she shuffled over as ordered and T'Pol left her there to soak in the sun for a bit. Which she expected would not prove difficult, considering her current state of dress. Figuratively speaking.

She reentered the shack to find Trip already roused and taking unsteadily to his feet. Yawning and scratching his head absently. As she already was well aware even before entering the building.

And as he was aware she approached, already turning to greet her.

"Mornin'." He mumbled, frowning at the sunlight assaulting him through the window.

He blinked around a bit at the others on the floor. Malcolm just beginning to groan and dare to move. Hoshi already almost awake, pushing herself up a bit to stare curiously at the big hunk of man she found herself making a comfy resting place out of.

Trip blinked around at all that. Then looked at her, vague and curious.

"Did we have a good time?" He asked, with some confusion.

"I can't say." She answered. "But there is vehicle in the woods outside. I assume we arrived in it. Go and inspect the vehicle, to insure it is still operational. From its current condition, I find that may be suspect."

He blinked at that a bit. And it took a moment to process the order, she could see.

But he nodded after a moment, staggering past her, grumbling, to go and do that.

Malcolm was squinting at her from the floor. And Travis had finally woke enough to stare curiously back at Hoshi.

So her crew was somewhat awake, if not entirely alert.

"Wake up." T'Pol said, briskly. "On your feet. We may have a situation here."

That got Malcolm moving immediately.

And tensing to groan in pain immediately as well, just becoming aware of his injuries.

T'Pol wasn't exactly a fan of touching people, when she could help it, but it seemed justified here. So she stepped forward to help him to his feet. And got a better look at his injuries in the process.

He hadn't merely engaged in unarmed combat recently, but apparently more than once or perhaps with several people at once. He had been severely beaten.

After a little grumbling, put to rest with a firm order to submit to examination, she was able to determine there were no life threatening or otherwise serious injuries. There were, however, a large number of contusions in evidence. All of them limited to the face and anterior torso.

That was disturbing.

Trip suddenly staggered back in through the doorway, to stare at her in confusion.

Until she felt compelled to prompt him.

"What?" She asked.

"T'Pol," He asked, uncertainly. "Why do you have Loya standing out the middle of everywhere buck naked like that?"

"She is not…exactly naked…"

"I don't think a couple of pasties and a piece of string qualifies as anything but."

"She is Orion, Trip." She explained, as if it were obvious. "Direct exposure to sunlight should help her recover…"

"Well, I'm a guy." Trip grumbled. "Red blooded Human male. And you've got me going to work on a car with a naked Orion girl standing right there. I don't think this bond of ours likes that idea all that much. It's kinda giving me fits."

T'Pol…considered that.

And, yes. Apparently the bond _was _in something of an agitated state on his end. She hadn't anticipated it taking such direct action so early on. That was…

"That is interesting." She noted, tossing a curious eyebrow up at that.

She could sense that Trip was only growing more irritable, however.

She'd offer him her jacket, of course, so that he could offer it to Loya to cover herself with, but she'd still yet to recover it.

She turned to Travis, to appropriate the multi-colored silk coat he'd acquired somewhere, but Malcolm was already stumbling off, grumbling irritably himself to see to matters. So she left that to him, as that seemed most appropriate.

Travis and Hoshi were smiling shyly and whispering to one another. It looked as if they might start behaving inappropriately at any moment.

This was all getting entirely out of hand already, she feared.

"Everyone outside." She said. "Immediately."

* * *

They all stood blinking and swaying slightly in the sun. All disheveled and mildly confused. Loya at least had developed some measure of alertness, thankfully. And Malcolm had somehow managed to convince her to put his shirt on, even if that only helped so much.

Of course…now _Malcolm _was standing there without a shirt on, so T'Pol had to question if that had improved matters at all.

But Loya was the most alert out of all of them, so T'Pol relied on her most directly.

"Loya," She said, "Examine the room we woke in for any intelligence. Search it thoroughly and report anything of interest to me."

Loya nodded and made off to do that, awake and aroused enough to remember she had duties to attend to here.

"Malcolm, you are injured. You will rest at the vehicle for now."

"I'm actually fine. Just a little banged up…"

"That was not a request, Malcolm." She corrected. "Travis, check the adjoining building and report what you find. Hoshi, if you have your PetPADD, see if you can determine our current location and contact both the dock and the ship for any messages…"

"Hey, whose underwear are these?" Trip called out suddenly, laughed. From the hovercar behind them in the woods.

T'Pol glanced back, to see him holding up the female undergarment in question by the waistband for review…

And suddenly aware of her own…private areas…the answer became instantly obvious.

At least to her. And she would prefer it stayed that way, now that she was aware of it…

She opened her mouth to immediately redirect everyone's attention _away _from that minor mystery…

"Those are the captain's underwears." Loya yelled back, peering out from the doorway to the shack, one hand to her brow the cut the morning glare.

That brought everyone to a sudden standstill.

Hoshi's head jerking up from her PetPADD. Malcolm stumbling to a stop…before peering over to confirm. Travis turning to stare almost in shock from the smaller building he was investigating…

T'Pol found the situation not at all conducive to maintaining unit discipline here. Not at all.

"Those are mine." She called back. And stiffly. "Leave them there for now."

"You…uh," Trip hesitated. "You don't want 'em?"

She hesitated.

"They have been exposed to the wilderness environment in the back seat of a hovercar all night, Trip. No, I don't want them back."

Travis piped in suddenly.

"You're not wearing _underwear?" _He asked, surprised.

"Mr. Mayweather," T'Pol said, turn her firm attention on him now. "We have worked together for several years now. What about me has caused you to think that I will answer that question? Or allow any further of discussion on the subject whatsoever?"

Travis blinked.

"Right…yeah, uh…"

She moved to change the subject to something more…_not that. _

Immediately.

"Trip, the vehicle?" She called out, stiffly.

He at least was wise enough to get on board with the reinstitution of proper unit discipline around here.

"Yeah…uh…Tungsten model Premier." He reported. "_Luxury _model, in fact. Very nice car, but somebody beat the hell out of it. Hydrogen powered, not electric. Which is the bad news, 'cause it's got probably enough fuel to turn over…and that's about all. We're not driving this thing out of here, at least not further than getting it out of the trees."

She nodded.

"Loya?"

"Nothing in there." She said, shrugging. "Not even boxes or anything. I think it's a ticket booth? From before, when the Risians ruled all of this?"

That was curious. The building was rather old, but that would indicate the open stretch they stood in was once a thoroughfare of some sort…

"Yeah." Trip called back, suddenly. "This is an old highway or something. So at least if we have to walk out of here, we've got two good choices to pick from. I'm pretty sure we came from _that _direction, looking at how the car's angled in here."

She nodded again.

"Travis?"

"This little shack is empty." He said. "Looks like a new cable and an old fashioned tumbler lock used to be on the door, but somebody just yanked that right off. The wood's pretty old."

"Hoshi?"

"No messages." She reported, eyeing her PetPADD. "And we're not even a kilometer away from Nuvia. There's an intersection just down this…road area we're on, on the right. It leads right back to the Silken Path and that runs straight to the docks after…three point eight kilometers."

"We can hire a conveyance there." T'Pol decided, "If we have all gathered what belongings we may have, then we should…"

She paused suddenly, reconsidering what Travis had said.

"A new cable and lock, Travis?" She asked, to confirm she'd understood.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. They're just laying there. Someone just pulled on them until the wood gave way…"

"The building itself is very old." T'Pol pointed out. "Why was it newly secured if it is empty?"

Travis frowned, realizing that himself. Then glanced back at the building he'd just come from searching.

"You know…there _was _something in there." He said. "The way the dust on the floor looks…I guess someone broke in and took whatever it was."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, waiting for the captain to relay whatever conclusion she'd just come to.

Before coming to it themselves.

Because, obviously, _they _were probably the only ones to have been here in the last twenty-four hours.

* * *

They couldn't find the electronic keys to the hovercar. And it wasn't accepting anyone's thumbprint, so it obviously hadn't been purchased or rented by any of them.

Which…left their being illegally in possession of it. Which is to say, they'd apparently stolen it.

It took a bit of jimmying and a lot of inventive resourcefulness, considering he only had the tools in the vehicle's emergency roadside kit to work from…but Trip eventually got the trunk open.

The electronic key was in the trunk, of course. Which still didn't help much, considering the hovercar didn't have enough hydrogen fuel to actually go anywhere.

The rest of the trunk's vast majority of space was taken up by a dozen bundles wrapped in protective plastic. Opening one of those and removing one of the thousands of hand-sized holographic prints inside, T'Pol had no idea what she was looking at.

It looked official. Detailed and obviously something printed at notable expense. Which suggested whatever these forms were, they were important enough to warrant that.

She presented it to Loya, as the Orions were heavily invested in Risa and she might just have a clue here.

She did.

"That's trade certificates." She said, surprised. "Risa trade certificates. Them's what the businesses use for doing business with each other."

T'Pol cocked an eyebrow up at _that _one. Because _that _was interesting.

"A form of currency?" She asked. To be clear.

"_Big_ currency." Loya nodded, appreciatively. "That's ten thousand credits, local money."

Everyone's attention snapped to the trunk and the certificates it held.

Until Hoshi worked up the nerve to _re-_clarify. Just to be sure everything was clarified and _re_-clarified and otherwise perfectly clear.

"That's…_ten thousand _Risian credits in there?" She asked.

"Oh, no." Loya corrected. "_That's _ten thousand credits."

She pointed at the certificate T'Pol was holding.

The one _single _certificate…that she'd taken out of the one bundle in the trunk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Abandoned thoroughfare  
****Four kilometers outside Nuvia City, Risa**

They all stared down at the trunk.

The one filled with somewhere upwards of a billion credits in Risian trade certificates.

"We're…we're _rich_." Travis said, just beginning to grin about that.

"No, we're _stinking _rich." Hoshi said, gazing in awe.

"No, we're _stupid_, stinking rich." Trip corrected, already doing the math here. "Say…ten thousand of those certificates to a bundle…twelve bundles…that's one billion, two hundred million credits…and that's two hundred million split six ways…"

"No." T'Pol said, clearly. "We are not rich. We are in significant trouble."

Loya was already nodding anxiously.

"Yes. That's big trouble. Very, _very_ big trouble."

Malcolm immediately jerked his attention to the sky.

Which caused everyone else to look there, too. Because he'd done so in such a dramatic manner that they had to look to see what…

Oh, right. Satellites.

_That _kind of very, very big trouble.

"Fight or flight, Captain?" He said, frowning at the sky. And then down the wide open area extending in either direction. Then stepping back away from everyone to get another look at all of that from a different perspective…

T'Pol considered the certificates in the trunk carefully. While Travis caught up to the situation. And Hoshi and Trip were just beginning to.

She considered the certificates for long enough as to make everyone a little more nervous than they already suddenly were. Which was quite a lot to begin with.

"Neither just yet." She decided. "Secure the trunk. Loya, are you familiar with wilderness camouflage?"

"You mean…hiding behind trees?"

"Never mind. Malcolm, lead the efforts there. Both of you search for any transmitters or radioactive satellite flags and destroy them. Then hide the vehicle. Trip, be sure the key is not left in the trunk this time."

She tossed the certificate she held back into the trunk, just in time for Trip to slam it shut hastily. Before any of the very, very big troubles in there might jump out and get them.

They got to work quickly and they moved efficiently, T'Pol was gratified to see.

They had the hovercar hidden from view in moments, that section of the wood looking more or less like any other by the time they were through. No sign of satellite tags or transmitters, at least none that they could detect without scanners of some sort.

A second thorough check of the surrounding area revealed nothing that had been missed.

And the fact that nothing had yet descended on them from the sky in force made clear that matters hadn't escalated to the point where local law enforcement tracked any of their individual data units or availed themselves of the ability to eavesdrop through them.

So they were ready to move out.

Which forced her to confront where exactly they were to move out to.

So she contemplated that, while the rest of the team adjusted themselves to the situation.

Malcolm took the electronic key to the hovercar when Trip offered it, placing that securely in his pocket…and dislodging a couple of the white, gaudily embroidered bits of cloth he had stuffed in that pocket. Thus finally becoming aware of them.

Loya becoming aware of them, too. Helping him to stoop down and retrieve them.

And thus recognizing what they were and what they represented.

Forcing Travis and Trip to work together pulling her away from Malcolm before she could injure him any further. Thankfully being too completely out of her mind with fury to put any actual hand to hand combat skill into that.

T'Pol decided to defer her contemplations after a moment to investigate that, once it was clear the matter would not resolve itself quickly.

"What is the matter?" She demanded.

Malcolm just looked stunned, unable to comprehend why Loya suddenly wanted to rip his face off.

Hoshi was still fairly lucid, however, and she'd retrieved a couple of the cloths to present to her.

They were simple, four by three centimeter pieces of white linen, embroidered in purple, pink or crimson red. On each, a name stitched artfully in Risian, with a matching imprint to the side. The imprint apparently being placed there by the application of too much lipstick, transferring the excess to the cloth by mouth.

T'Pol looked up from that, to offer Hoshi an unspoken question.

"Love letters." Hoshi frowned. "The local prostitutes hand these out. They're…coupons, I guess. You get a discount with those for…whatever the color of the border represents."

T'Pol glanced at the…'love letters' in her hand. And the ones spilled on the ground all between Malcolm and the place where Travis and Trip were still wrestling with Loya.

And the bulge in Malcolm's pocket, where the rest of the cloths still were.

Easily a dozen of them, if not more.

Loya had finally stopped struggling against the men holding her in place over there. And she had calmed herself enough to remember she could easily incapacitate them both, if she took a mind to.

She was fairly skilled, after all.

So T'Pol thought it prudent to take matters in hand before it occurred to her to do that.

"Loya, control yourself." She ordered.

Loya immediately launched into what would surely be long, detailed diatribe against Malcolm, alternating between expressions of rage, violent intent and tearful accusations. All in Orion and too rapid to translate. Which didn't matter, since none of them but Hoshi would understand any of it.

But T'Pol didn't have time for all of that.

"_Now_, Loya!" She snapped.

She didn't appreciate having to behave in that manner and avoided it wherever possible. But it was occasionally, if very rarely, the logical approach with emotional crewmen. And Loya was Orion. Having at least partially accepted her as a pseudo-matriarchal figure here, she responded in the appropriately Orion manner.

She shut up and stopped screaming at everyone. And struggled to control herself.

T'Pol nodded, affirming that behavior.

"Now," She said, speaking clearly. "Before we go further, check your pockets and belongings for any other clues. Obviously that should already have occurred to us, but we will do so now. Loya…Travis and Trip will release you now. And you will do nothing further regarding Malcolm until all details are known here, and I have heard and approve of whatever you intend. Understood?"

Loya still huffed. And still eyed Malcolm viciously a time or two. But she begrudgingly muttered something in Orion that T'Pol perceived as roughly equivalent to an acknowledgment.

So, well enough.

They checked their belongings and their pockets. Malcolm had a total of fourteen 'love letters', which he turned over to Trip to keep. Who then turned them over to T'Pol, when she found that unacceptable.

Travis discovered an invitation in the pocket of his silk jacket. A paper thin video card announcing the wedding reception of Oscent Raxt'la and Eleyay Du'kar. Scheduled for the previous evening. Which was both interesting and dreadful, as the name of their client happened to be Boskin Du'kar. The Orion…'business man' clearly indicated as hosting the reception and, fairly obviously, the father of the bride.

Hence, T'Pol supposed, his putting off making the trade with them at the docks until later today. He'd apparently had a more pressing engagement.

That led directly to the matter of Trip's wedding ring. Which he insisted he knew nothing about, even after repeated detailed questioning and investigation by T'Pol.

Who then took that into her keeping as well.

Other than that, nothing more that had not already been discovered.

Except that Hoshi's near constant fidgeting since they'd awoken finally required investigating. And she went behind one of the buildings to investigate the burning sensation on her…lower stomach.

Calling T'Pol and Loya over, looking decidedly pale, when she discovered the source of it. T'Pol first, then Loya, as Loya was required to verify Hoshi's uncertain translation.

She had two words tattooed there, one above the other. Very low on the stomach.

Extremely low. Directly across the recently shaved pubic mound, in fact.

_Bra'shel M'ael._

The High Orion term for 'slave to greed'. Or, as Loya insisted, more accurately, 'belonging to avarice'.

That was…very curious.

* * *

T'Pol had reason soon enough to acknowledge how and why she'd long since come to appreciate adapting to unexpected circumstances quickly. They often seem to be followed far too rapidly by situations requiring some measure of understanding of those new circumstances.

So it was logical to adapt quickly and accurately perceive the unexpected as rapidly as possible.

Otherwise, as was too often the case even then, something would occur that you would be entirely unprepared to respond to in the most efficient and effective manner.

And so it was here.

They were only just beginning to fully internalize the situation they found themselves in. In fact, barely even that.

When Malcolm spotted a vehicle approaching from further down the thoroughfare. From the direction of Nuvia City.

T'Pol assessed the situation as quickly as she could, still far too ignorant of the details for comfort.

There were three most likely possibilities here.

One, their presence in the area had been detected by authorities charged with keeping it free from loiterers and trespassers. With that vehicle approaching to, hopefully, politely advise them to leave. Which they would then promptly do, as they intended to already, and thus avoid any trouble here.

Two, that this was a public area and their presence did not constitute trespassing. And so the vehicle approaching likely contained civilians, who would at best stop for a moment to express curiosity at their presence before moving on again. Again, avoiding any unnecessary trouble.

Or three…which would be the other one billion, two hundred million other possibilities, all directly relevant to the one billion, two hundred million in the trunk of the hidden car. All safely filed together under one broad category. That being the high likelihood of an aggressive confrontation about to take place here.

That in turn likely resulting in violence of some sort.

She, Hoshi and Malcolm were currently standing in open view, in the middle of the thoroughfare. Trip, Travis and Loya were off to one side, where they'd dragged her nearly between the buildings nearby in their attempt to stop her from further injuring Reed. Close enough that there was at least a possibility that they had not yet been spotting, considering the line of sight from the vehicle to them.

"Trip," She said, without turning her head. "Move immediately behind the smaller building, out of sight. Travis and Loya, inside the larger building. Is anyone armed?"

She heard the three moving over there behind her, as instructed. But no one answered regarding armament.

So they were unarmed, all of them. Something else she should have established quickly, the moment she realized the potential danger they were in.

There was nothing to be done for it now, though.

She stood and waited patiently then. Malcolm, bruised and shirtless to one side. Hoshi at least properly dressed and uninjured, if lacking any notable combat skill.

They waited.

And the vehicle arrived.

The men exiting from the cab and jumping from the open back of the vehicle…were clearly not authorities of any sort. And while obviously civilian…they were dressed in a manner that could be described as dubious. At best.

The first man would be the leader of this rabble, T'Pol decided. Because he approached confidently and with an air of threatening aggression. Glaring tightly at them, while the others looked amused or even excited.

"Who the hell are _you _people?" The man asked.

T'Pol glanced over them quickly, assessing the situation.

Six men, all with _ja'risia _on their foreheads. The small, gold-colored disks that Risian natives traditionally wore. They looked authentic and weren't the sort of thing that she supposed gangs and thugs would wear otherwise. So these men were not only Risians but Risian natives.

They appeared relatively young, perhaps in their twenties. But Risians aged slower than the norm for humanoids of that type, so they could be estimated to be in their early thirties, at most.

That in turn indicated that they'd managed to survive to that age while pursuing, presumably, criminal and likely violent careers. Which was somewhat discouraging, as it indicated both success and survivability in that pursuit.

However…their dress included a predominance of black leather, dull silver spikes intended to suggest menace and colorful tattoos with violent motifs. That did not suggest a serious minded attention to such a career and spoke to a simple fascination with the chaotic and self-destructive aspects of the lifestyle.

So perhaps these men had simply been very lucky so far. She would have to determine that more directly.

"Well?" The man growled. "Are you going to tell me who you are and what the hell you're doing here or do my boys have to start bashing some skulls in?"

"Are you armed?" T'Pol asked.

The man looked puzzled for a brief moment. But only briefly. Long enough to recognize that was nothing near the sort of response he'd expected.

"_Armed?" _He asked, mockingly. "What do you mean 'armed'?"

"Armed." She said again. "Do you possess weaponry? Energy weapons or hand to hand weaponry. Knives, clubs or laser blades…"

The man snapped his fingers, throwing one hand out to his side to send that snap back to his men. Who immediately began reaching within their clothing.

"Yeah, we're 'armed'." He said, glaring at her. "You want to see what we're _'armed' _with?"

"Yes, thank you."

They all had weapons presented quickly enough. Waving them about in some cases, so that they could be seen clearly.

Mostly simple steel knives. A pair of polycarbon stealth knuckles in one case. The leader even producing a knife that combined both, in order to menace her with it.

She considered the weaponry on display. Especially the knife immediately before her.

No energy weapons and nothing particularly well crafted.

That seemed…suspicious. Considering she and her crew had apparently come across the certificates stashed here and elected to confiscate them, that indicated a high probability that these men were here to collect them, having stashed them here in the first place.

It was not very likely that any group capable of securing those certificates in the first place would be so poorly armed. So they were obviously holding out, electing not to produce the much more deadly armament they surely had available to them.

Because, of course, they'd stumbled upon civilians at their cache point. And civilians only needed frightening away with the simple brandishing of knives and such.

So they were only pretending to be thugs. Because that was deemed sufficient here for their purposes. So they were relatively smart. Somewhat disciplined. And, of course, armed.

"Well?" The man demanded.

She cast another quick glance over the weaponry presented. And rapidly assessed the position the men had taken.

Then nodded at the leader slightly.

"That will be sufficient." She said.

And she tensed, preparing to disarm the man and take the blade. Taking him in hand as well, using her superior strength to spin him about to her chest as a shield. While Malcolm engaged in order to do the same with one of the other men, until proper weaponry presented itself.

Then moving in to secure one of those. And to proceed progressively from there.

It was very likely that some of her crew would die here. Perhaps as many as half, and perhaps even her mate. But there was no other choice. Even if they managed to leave on foot, after suffering the necessary harassment in order to insure their intimidation, these men would quickly discover the certificates were gone and come after them.

There was no way for this situation to be resolved that did not require violence. She would lose crew here, and there was nothing to be done for that.

So she tensed, preparing to make her move. And she could sense Malcolm was ready as well.

When one of the men suddenly laughed out loud.

"J'Mar!" He said, suddenly excited. "Hey, look! That's the British!"

He was pointing at Malcolm, with his knife. Grinning widely.

The leader frowned over her shoulder…and likewise suddenly adopted a surprised and very pleased expression.

"Yeah, hey! You're the British!" He said, to Malcolm.

Who could only cast about among the suddenly excited and happy men murmuring among themselves about him.

Malcolm, T'Pol was quite certain…had never been to Risa before. These men couldn't possibly know him.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Iron Pit**  
**Nuvia City, Risa**  
**2100 hours**

Malcolm let himself be dragged along by the Risian, because he was feeling pretty good about himself. He had Loya all over him…and she was wearing _that_. From the dancing thing a while ago.

He actually turned away three or four times to take care of _that _very necessary bit of business but the Risian just kept distracting him.

Loya was making it pretty clear she wouldn't mind a little slap and tickle right there in the crowd. Reed didn't mind that either. Let them all watch, he didn't care. She was a very tidy bit of business, and that business needed tending.

Loya was nibbling on his neck and making some very provocative noises while she doing was it. Muttering something very huskily in Orion, he was fairly certain. Scratching at his back a bit, running her fingers wildly through his hair. And the Risian leading him around all over the place…that didn't seem to slow her down a bit. She practically floated right along, not even losing her grip.

She could keep that up all she liked. That was doing right wonders.

But the Risian was so _distracting_.

"The most amazing fighter I've ever seen!" He gushed, dragging him along by the arm. "We can make enough in one night to live like kings for a month!"

That sounded pretty good. In fact, a nice comfortable resort room…one of the really flash rooms along the beach...that would make Loya go positively wild.

Or…_wilder_.

And he could show off a bit in the process.

That sounded pretty good. Of _course _he'd do that!

He was in the pit before he knew it. But not before the Risian was suddenly insisting he had to have a name. He _had _a name. What kind of question was _that?_

"No, no! A _fighting _name!" The Risian explained.

Loya was already bouncing on her toes.

"The British! That's what everyone calls him! He's the British!" She grinned, wildly.

"Perfect!" The Risian exclaimed. "What does the 'the British' mean?"

"Tritanium testicles!" Reed laughed.

"Perfect!"

Malcolm stood down in the pit now, the crowd elevated above on the bleachers all around. Some cheering, some jeering. It was all very exciting and he couldn't help but grin. He still had his black, sleeveless shirt on…so he tossed up his dukes a little for the crowd. Flexed a bit to get things jumping.

Mostly for Loya, because she squealed like a little girl when he did. Cheering and clapping and yelling to everyone in the crowd that that was _the British _down there. And that was_ her_ man.

The crowd loved it. They went nuts. Risian credit chits were raining down into the arena before the other guy even showed up.

Then he did.

And…he was big.

A big, thick, hulking brute of a Risian. Bald, mean looking. He had at least two feet in height on him. Nearly twice as broad.

Malcolm grinned, a wicked little grin.

This was going to be so much fun!

He waited, fists up. Swaying a little but not moving from where he stood. Just keeping eye contact with the big, sweaty, dead eyed monster across the pit from him. Just a few steps away.

Waiting for the announcer to finish whatever he was going on about.

Sparing Loya a smirk…and a wink.

She swooned a little, and squealed a lot.

Oh, yes. So much fun.

A loud, grating buzzer sounded…and the hulk was moving in, like a big, fat tide of pain coming to crush…

Malcolm stepped out and to the left, then back to the right again quickly. Just enough to draw that guy's ponderous weight in the wrong direction, for just that split second.

A slight, quick jump to the monster's flank…left knee raised high…foot arcing out and to the side…

Smash! Right to the side of the knee…

Down he went.

Funny how it seemed to take him a second longer to fall than any other man. Because he was so _big_. And maybe it really _did _take him longer to fall. The floor of the arena certainly shook for a few seconds.

Malcolm knocked a couple of other guys out before he realized all _these _guys were just bouncers sent in to tell him to stop stomping on the big, fat, sweaty one.

Okay, right.

He nodded, grinning. Turning to raise his fists triumphantly in the air and roar for the crowd.

More crazed screaming by the masses. More credit chits raining down. He eyed Loya, grinning, and gave her another leer and a wink.

She really _did _swoon that time. T'Pol had to reach over and catch her from falling because her knees buckled.

Oh, the things he was going to do to that poor girl tonight! Once you go Human, you never…go…back or…

Anyway, a flash room, a hot tub, clean sheets and a pile of credit chits! Nice long weekend making the bird sing.

But, first…_who's next?!_

* * *

The second one needed a little work. He almost landed a blow, so Malcolm focused a little then. Taking things a bit more seriously.

He swayed right, letting his left drop a little…and the guy brought in a hard hook to the jaw because he'd been dumb enough to leave himself open….

Malcolm batted it aside, grabbing the wrist and twisting the arm until he had him locked down.

Then let him go to try that one again, backing up until he was ready.

Dropped his left again…a big, hard fist in a _jab _this time…

Malcolm broke his wrist. Swaying under and to the other side, swatting at the wrist with the other hand now…twist, snap…

Stepping back. One more go.

He dropped his right this time, looking for all the world like he was focusing all his power into a left hook of his own.

The guy came in with the same hard hook now, with his _left_, to take advantage of that.

He dislocated his shoulder that time.

It took a couple of solid hits to the jaw while he was bent over wailing about that to finally put him down.

Screaming, credit chits, Loya swooning. He was fairly sure she had a little _joy _over that one…if you know what I mean.

Next?

* * *

He made it past the preliminaries easily enough. So he was in the running.

He got to use the back room to wash up a bit now, since he'd made the ranks…then he was late for his first match up, because Loya got away from Trip and T'Pol. And the Risian couldn't convince him to go fight again until he was a least a _little _finished there.

He had a point about the really flash rooms though, at the top of the Golden Bough. Those were the best rooms. That required a lot of credits and Loya would _love _that. So they had to make a quickie out of it.

He arrived and was ready to fight, even if that meant everyone was jeering now. He was late and crowds don't like to wait.

He would have made a show of it, to win the crowd back over…but this guy knew his business. Malcolm ended up having to go for the solar plexus a couple of times and box his ears just to get in close enough for a couple of solid body blows.

After that…he just blocked and redirected. Slapping him around to put some shock damage on him and humiliate him before the crowd. The guy got weak after a short bit of that, so Malcolm made a big show a few quick jabs, then a trio of hard hooks and, finally, a big midair spin and blow that put the guy's jaw over his shoulder.

The crowd went wild.

Down and out.

Next?

* * *

Broken jaw and shattered knee for the fourth guy.

Had to box the fifth guy for a while, taking advantage of every stunning blow he could land before he was finally able to show out a bit there, with a nice upper cut that left him staggering around while Malcolm tenderized his torso. He passed out right on his feet.

The sixth guy knew the arts. And that's when it started getting challenging. Malcolm had the guy's face looking like a mass of hamburger before the end but he just wouldn't go down.

He had Malcolm in an eagle grip of some kind at one point, right on the kidney, while he rained blows down on his face a bit himself. Then Malcolm finally broke lose of that and start putting some judo on him.

He'd never seen anything like that before, apparently. So that softened him up for a good old fashioned bit of brawling, once he was too weak to defend very well.

Guy number seven wasn't so bad. He used too much leg work, lots of high kicks and crescent variations. Then he thought Malcolm was weaker than he really was, so he tried to come down with a heel to his skull.

Reed went right for the groin. Took him a half minute to really put him down after that but it was already over.

Number eight was another monster. An Orion who roared a lot and liked to charge. Malcolm wasn't fooled though. There was a wary, intelligent look in the guy's eye. It was all a front, trying to make him think he could use his seemingly reckless attacks against him. Then he'd be right on top of you, using all his mass to just beat you right down.

He didn't let the guy get close and he brought out the footwork himself this time. Then took him off guard jumping on his back to choke him for a bit. After that it was straight fisticuffs. That was the most fun he had so far.

The ninth guy…Malcolm had no idea how he got that far in the ranks. He had nothing but lockdowns and redirects. He was almost entirely defensive. The fight took a while and Malcolm had to finally just let the guy catch him one time just so he could get close enough to hit him.

He beat the guy unconscious with the arm that _wasn't _locked down.

Then off to the back room again so Loya could fret over the bruises and the busted lip. And a little more of the raunchy.

Then the money men showed up.

* * *

The Orions had a good pitch. All the chits from the arena, plus what they were offering…that'd put them up all weekend, plus all the fancy food and lots of shopping for Loya in between the sheet work…

That sounded brilliant!

Of course he'd throw the fight! He could make a real show of it too, for a couple more thousand credits…

Number ten knew his business and he was _very _tough. So throwing the fight in an exciting manner wouldn't have been hard at all.

But he liked to play head games. Say things to make you mad and get reckless. Like what he said about Loya. No, that just wasn't about to stand.

Malcolm didn't lose his temper. He never lost his temper.

He just got mean.

The guy had Malcolm on the ground and made the mistake of trying to stomp on him. A quick grab at the knee with one hand, the other at the ankle…twist…and he had to go with it and let himself get thrown off or lose the knee.

Malcolm was back on his feet, coming in for the guy. Side kick to the gut, side kick the face, crescent across the jaw. Then again, the same exact combo. Then again, with a vicious forward stomp to the solar plexus instead of the crescent he was ready for.

He was too stunned to do much about the half dozen kicks Malcolm threw at him then, and he couldn't move because he had him up against the wall now.

He managed to spin out of that eventually and Malcolm let himself be drawn in, fighting forward. Punch, punch, jaw, hook, hook…_hook_…

And the guy suddenly had him in the exact same eagle claw to the kidney the sixth guy had used.

Malcolm wasn't showing out for the crowd anymore, though. He just gave him his elbow to chew on about a half dozen times, in rapid, powerful succession until he had to let go and stumble back…

Into the wall again.

He caught Malcolm's spinning side kick…but that was just funny. Because Malcolm just jumped and spun the other way, to bring the opposite foot at him. Broke himself lose before he could lose his ankle in the process, and that was lucky.

Laid him out, stunned. So Malcolm stomped on him, to see how many bones he could break before the bouncers were sent in to stop him.

He knocked a couple of those out just for good measure.

Then they had to run, because the money men, the Orions, weren't happy with all the money they'd lost betting on that guy.

And they didn't have time to pick up any of the money the crowd had thrown him either, which Malcolm kept trying to break away and go back for. Until Loya convinced him she didn't care. She wanted to do it on the beach anyway.

He'd managed to snatch a handful of it up, while Trip and Travis were dragging him of the pit…or so he thought. Turned out that was just a bunch of handkerchiefs the Risian girls threw at him…

* * *

Malcolm just stared, while the guys in black leather went on and on about it.

He…_sort _of remembered. A little.

Maybe.

But that didn't sound like him at all. He would never do something like that! Even if he was drunk…which he couldn't have been, if he fought _that _well!

But _pitfighting?! _For _money?!_

That was…_barbaric! _

He tried to play along, to keep the thugs occupied while T'Pol and Trip moved in on them. Got themselves into position. And for Loya to get her hands on the guy back by the truck…

But by the time they got to the end of the story he was honestly standing there with his jaw dropped.

He just couldn't believe it.

There had to be some _other _'British' running around with an Orion, a Vulcan and a couple of Humans. There just _had _to be.


	6. Chapter 6

**Abandoned thoroughfare  
****Four kilometers outside Nuvia City, Risa**

Malcolm was doing his best to pretend he knew _anything _about what these men were telling him. Doing his best to play along, adding his entirely made up on the fly commentary…

But he was a terrible actor. It was as simple as that. And however he must have acted when _these _guys saw him at that 'Iron Pit' club, Trip could see that it must not have been anything at all like the stuffed shirt Malcolm _they _all knew and loved.

Because just about every time he opened his mouth to comment on something, all the guys just kinda looked at him a little funny.

Trying not to. You could see they really wanted Malcolm to be the amazing 'British', so they were trying to gloss over how _this _guy and _that _guy didn't quite match up somehow. Trying to ignore the odd way he tried so hard to describe some horrifically violent fights in a prim and proper…and clearly uncomfortable…manner.

And, really, _Trip _was having a hard time believing the guy they were describing was Malcolm. It sure as heck didn't sound anything like him at all.

If he hadn't heard Nallin call Malcolm 'British' himself on more than one occasion…he'd really have to seriously consider there might be some _other _guy running around with a Vulcan, an Orion and a couple of Humans. There'd just have to be.

Fact was…this wasn't going to last long. Sooner or later these guys were going to have to give up and accept that there was something fishy going on. At the very least they were going to have the opportunity to remember why they were here. And it wasn't to meet 'the British' and fawn all over him.

It was to pick up over a billion credits in trade certificates they'd probably stashed here.

And then they were going to finally have to wonder what _they _were doing here.

They didn't have a lot of time before that happened. And Loya was wasting a lot of it being insecure about her ability to distract one dumb thug.

"I don't smell right!" Loya hissed.

She, Trip and T'Pol had managed to sort of wander around behind the guys to listen to the story being told…so they were right in between these five guys all over Malcolm and the one guy who, damn the luck, had decided to hang around by the truck instead of going over there with the rest of the guys.

Or maybe T'Pol was right and they really _did _have a half ounce of common sense between them. And so left one guy to guard the truck while they…ran off to get an autograph from 'the British' or whatever.

But if Loya kept 'whispering' so damned loud, someone was going to hear her.

"That doesn't matter, Loya." Trip insisted, quietly. "And keep it down."

"Yes it does! It's matters lots!" She hissed, even louder.

"It. Doesn't. Matter." Trip gritted, through his teeth. "Just go back there and get past the guy. You're a good looking Orion woman. Trust me, that's all it takes. Just look interested and…get him in the truck. You don't _need _pheromones."

T'Pol leaned in then, out of nowhere.

"Perhaps _I _should make the attempt." She suggested.

Trip…

…suddenly found himself in a pretty deadly situation here. Forget about the thugs, how the heck do you tell your Vulcan bondmate that she's _less _likely to successfully seduce some dumb thug than an Orion who can't even project pheromones?

Yeah, here there be dragons.

And besides all that…_hell, no!_

Because she probably _would_ pull it off, in fact. She was a damned sight better looking than Loya. And these guys were all sexaholics, weren't they? He wasn't about to let _her _climb in the back of the truck with some…_Risian sex freak! _What the hell was the _matter with her?!_

T'Pol apparently picked up on all that right away though. Real time, as it was happening.

And, yes. Thank you, mate bond, for being so helpful. Let's let T'Pol know _everything _we're thinking, okay? Because _that's _a great idea…

She cocked an eyebrow up at him.

"I only suggest that I might be more successful than Loya, considering her utter lack of confidence." She said. "But it occurs to me…_you _would likely be more successful than either of us. He _is _Risian. And we are in a desperate situation."

Wow.

Well, that just went from bad to worse in a real big hurry.

"She can do it." Trip insisted. Mostly to avoid getting roped into this himself.

"I can't!"

"For crying out loud, Loya!" Trip whispered, fiercely. "How'd you ever get Malcolm in your bunk in the first place?"

"I just asked!"

"What do you _mean _you just asked?"

"I just ask, 'Malcolm, will you make sex with me?' Then he says, 'Yes, I'd love to.'"

Loya just looked back at him when he stared at her. And he could see…she was perfectly sincere.

So Trip just stared a bit more.

Because…seriously?

"That _worked?" _He finally managed.

Loya just shrugged. Apparently.

So Trip stared some more. Then squinted, because he didn't believe it.

"There was more to it than _that."_ He insisted.

"Trip," T'Pol said, waiting until he looked at her before finishing. "Would you have sex with me if _I _asked that way?"

That shocked the hell out of Trip. And what the heck kinda crazy question was _that?_

"Well, yeah!" He said, instantly. "In a heartbeat. What kinda crazy question is that? It's not even the same thing…"

T'Pol just nodded at Loya, ignoring him.

"Try that." She said, jerking her head a little back at the thug at the truck.

Loya chewed her lip, fretfully.

"It won't work." She said, uncertainly.

Then…

"Will it?"

T'Pol gave her the eyebrow. Because, of course it would.

"He is Risian." She said, simply.

Loya chewed her lip a little more over that.

Then sighed, reluctantly.

"Okay."

And she was off.

Trip rubbed his eyes slowly. And groaned a bit.

"This is gonna be bad." He said.

"It will be fine." T'Pol said, confidently.

"No." Trip frowned. "It's gonna be a disaster. We better get ready to just fight these guys."

* * *

Loya made her way over to the truck. Like she was just wandering over here…just as casually as she knew how...

So she was very awkward and jerky about it. Nervous and almost spastic.

The thug looked at her as she…very ungracefully sauntered over. And he squinted suspiciously.

Because…that was pretty suspicious.

"Hi!" Loya said, far too forcefully. As if she'd just noticed him there, which obviously wasn't true.

"Hi." The Risian frowned.

Loya picked at Malcolm's shirt then, chewing her lip and looking around for something to look at. Other than this guy she had no idea what to do with.

She'd never actually _seduced _anyone before. She always just said yes when Human men came on the station and seduced _her_…

So…no idea here.

She did put her hands behind her back though, since picking at the shirt probably wasn't attractive, maybe.

Writhing her fingers together nervously back there, while the guy just stared at her.

"I've never been to Risa before." She said, suddenly. Since that was the first thing that popped out of her mouth.

"Okay." The guy said, still frowning.

Loya nodded, finding that interesting. Because Trip _said _'be interested'.

So…okay.

Well…

"Have _you _been to other places?"

"No."

Loya nodded. That was very interesting.

So…

"You want to make sex in the truck?" She asked.

The guy squinted at her.

And looked her over one good time...

Then his eyes lit up. And he grinned.

"Okay." He said, brightly.

So Loya's eyes lit up, too. And she grinned as well.

Because, huh. Trip was right. That _was _pretty easy.

"Oh." He said, suddenly. "Wait."

Or…not. What…?

"Aren't you with the British?" He asked, suddenly concerned.

Oh.

Right, she forgot about that.

Humans were total backwards about sex. And so maybe this guy knew that.

"He doesn't mind!" She said, lying badly.

And obviously.

"I don't know…" He said, uncertainly. "I heard he beat up about a dozen guys at the Pink Cloud. And I hear Humans are weird about sex."

The…Pink Cloud? That sounded familiar…

"Hey, was that you?" He asked, suddenly.

"What was me?"

"Dancing at the Pink Cloud."

"I…" Loya said, uncertainly.

No, she didn't dance at places around here. She just _got _here.

But, then again…

"Yes." She said. "Definitely. We can make sex in the truck, then I can dance for you."

Whatever. If it got him in the truck…

Or, wait…maybe she had that backwards…maybe dance _then _make sex…?

Pretty sure that's how it was supposed to go. Right?

"I don't know. I don't want to make the British mad at me. He's Human."

Loya nodded. Yes, that's very interesting.

Now, how to get him in the truck…?

"Maybe…he won't _see _if we're in the truck?"

The guy frowned.

"Well, I don't want to do it if we're going to be quiet about it and not even shake the truck."

Loya nodded. That's interesting.

He was still frowning.

So...this wasn't working.

Now what?

Well, never mind then. She'd just stick to what she knew.

"Wait." She grinned, like she just had a great idea. "Come here."

And she went around behind the truck.

And when he followed her around…she snatched him by the larynx.

Really tight. So that he had to stand there and choke while she lined up her shot.

Then she chopped hard and sharp, right at the side of the neck. Where she hoped Risians had the same major vein running there that everyone else did. And that it had the same knockout effect...

They did, apparently.

She let go of his throat and he hit the dirt. Out cold.

So she rooted around in his pockets until she found the key to the truck.


	7. Chapter 7

**Abandoned thoroughfare  
****Four kilometers outside Nuvia City, Risa**

Hoshi wasn't really comfortable with plasma weapons. Or any weapons, actually.

So she couldn't quite bring herself to take the thing until T'Pol gave her the eyebrow about it. And even then she didn't like it.

"What now?" She frowned, following the captain over to the rest of the crew. Trip left behind at the truck, having lingered a little longer to find just the right gun.

They were approaching the bad guys over there, on their knees with their hands behind their backs, before T'Pol answered her.

"Now we will kill one of the men, as an example to the others." T'Pol explained.

Which stopped Hoshi in her tracks right there. But T'Pol kept on explaining as if she were still following along.

"Then we will gauge how intimidated the rest of the group…"

"Wha…?!" Hoshi finally said.

So T'Pol at least stopped and turned to eye her curiously. Even as the men on their knees, under the gun already by Malcolm and Loya, looked about as surprised as she was.

"_Kill _one of them?" Hoshi finally managed.

"Of course."

"Wha…?!" Hoshi said, again.

Loya offered her support.

"So you can see how mean they are." She explained, where she stood with some kind of huge…cannon looking thing pointed vaguely in the direction of the six men on their knees in the dirt.

All six of the Risians were there, in a little bunch, on their knees in the dirt. Their shirts removed and stripped, in order to bind their hands behind their backs.

And their pants removed…well, just because Loya thought that was funny or something.

Hoshi jerked her astonishment from T'Pol to Loya then. And Loya could see she wasn't following along. So she explained further.

"If they're really scared after that, you can leave them." She said. "But if they're still mean about it, you got to kill all of them."

T'Pol nodded, affirming that.

"Yes, precisely." She said.

And Hoshi could see that Loya was pleased with the affirmation. Which was nice and all…but there was still the thing about _killing _somebody.

"Uh…excuse me…" One of the men on their knees said, offering his input.

"Captain…but…you said we don't _kill _people unless we _have _to." Hoshi argued.

"We have to." T'Pol pointed out.

"Um…" The man offered again. The leader from before, in fact. "Actually…you don't really…"

Trip finally joined them, having found just the right gun. A plain old phase pistol, apparently. Which Hoshi allowed herself to do a little double take over, since she figured he would be like Loya and find the biggest, nastiest thing in the truck that he could.

But, whatever. At least _he'd _inject some _reason _into all this…

"There _are _six of them, captain." Trip said. "No reason we can't shoot _two_, just to be sure. Shoot them really nasty…like maybe burn their legs off, like we did those two guys on Rigel. If they've still running their mouths after _that_…"

"Trip!" Hoshi exclaimed, completely flabbergasted.

Trip shrugged broadly. "Or just one! Sheesh! What difference does it make?"

"That's really not necessary…" The guy in the dirt offered.

"Shaddap!" Trip snapped, tossing a glance that way before returning to the argument over _here_, thank you.

"Actually…" T'Pol said, considering that. "That would be more effective. Most logical, in fact. Minimizing loss of life by making only one execution as effective as possible."

She turned to Malcolm.

"What would you suggest, British?" She asked. "We require a very slow, yet inevitable, manner of execution. Maximizing empathetic response in the remaining prisoners."

"Gut shot." Malcolm said, immediately. "Just tune down a plasma weapon and shoot one of them in the stomach. It would take hours to die and they be rather vocal about it."

T'Pol nodded.

"Then we will avail ourselves of that." She nodded. "Which prisoner would you suggest I execute?"

"Now, hold on, captain." Travis said, somewhere behind her. "You don't have to kill anybody."

And, oh God, Hoshi was so relieved. She almost whimpered from it. At least _Travis _would back her up here…

"He's right!" The man on his knees said. And all of his men immediately offered their desperate, murmuring support to that. "You don't have to kill anybody!"

Malcolm tossed a shot of plasma into the dirt near that guy. So that the small explosion of dirt showered all the men. And shut them up for a couple of seconds.

"What do you mean?" Malcolm asked, apparently curious at this novel idea Travis had come up with.

"You don't have to kill anyone." He said again. "Just maim them. Maybe all of them. Burn their legs off, like Trip said."

T'Pol tossed up her eyebrow.

That _was _a curious idea.

"What are you _talking _about?!" Hoshi exclaimed, horrified.

"Wait!" The guy on his knees exclaimed, right along with her. "You don't have to shoot anybody!"

Trip frowned. "Can we start with _this _guy, captain? He's kinda gettin' on my nerves."

"We've got money!" The guy said.

Because Trip had his phase pistol pointing at him already. Ready to start with him.

But that at least made everyone pause.

"Money?" T'Pol asked, curious on that point.

The guy nodded frantically. "Lots of money. You can have it. All of it."

"You mean the trade certificates you stashed in the shack nearby?" She asked.

Which…made the men on their knees in the dirt suddenly pause. And confirmed that they had, in fact, stashed the trade certificates in the shack nearby.

"Yes." T'Pol said. "We have already availed ourselves of that. Have you anything else to offer?"

The guy worked his mouth a bit…but he obviously couldn't come up with anything.

"Look, let's just kill all of them." Trip huffed. "This is taking too long."

T'Pol frowned. "I'm tempted to agree."

"You don't have to kill us!" The guy offered, immediately. Despite having nothing else to offer…

"They look pretty intimidated to me." Hoshi said, firmly.

And all the men in the dirt nodded, vigorously. Yes, very intimidated.

T'Pol considered that.

And everyone waited while she did so.

"Very well." She said. "We will combine both approaches. All of you men there…on your feet."

The men scrabbled as best they could to get to their feet. Which took a second, since their hands were tied.

Hands tied behind their back, in nothing but their underwear. They didn't even have boots on.

In fact, Loya was _wearing_ one of the men's boots. Because they were better than hers, she'd said.

"Turn around." T'Pol said.

The men…did not like that idea. So they hesitated.

"Malcolm." T'Pol said, disapprovingly.

"Last one turned about gets shot in the face." Malcolm said, stiffly.

The men turned around, if hesitantly even still.

"Malcolm and Loya." T'Pol said. "You will cover the tree line to be certain none of the men seek the cover of the woods until they reach at least one hundred meters. Travis and Hoshi, you are well overdue for weapons training under field conditions. You will have until the men reach one hundred meters. Whichever of you kills or disables the most men will be absolved of kitchen duties for one month."

T'Pol drew her data unit from her pocket. And began counting down.

"You will begin in ten seconds." She said.

Then…

"Five…

Four…

Three…"

The men began running at 'one', which was technically cheating. But it hardly mattered.

Travis and Hoshi just aimed for the sky right over their heads. And they tossed a few bolts into the woods to either side of the band of stumbling, half-naked men just to add to the excitement. Trip and Malcolm tossed a few shots out there too, just so there'd be a bit more deadly energy flying around.

Most of them hit the woods just shy of a hundred meters. But, again, hardly mattered.

Trip chuckled.

"Wow, Hoshi." He grinned. "Good job."

Hoshi huffed a bit.

"Well, it wasn't _hard_." She said. "You guys were a little _too _convincing. I wasn't sure a couple of times you _weren't _going to just kill everyone."

Loya frowned.

"Should have." She said. "They are going to be trouble later, probably."

"Not for some time." T'Pol said, tucking her phase pistol into her waistband at her back. "If we resolve matters here quickly enough, we can be on our way before having to deal with them again. And if we are fortunate, we will not have to confront them again at all."

They watched the tree line down there for a moment longer, just to be sure.

But the men were gone, running off into the woods in all directions. Hands tied behind their back, in their underwear, with no boots. So they'd be occupied for a while.

"Into the truck." T'Pol ordered. "We're leaving now."

"What about the certificates?" Travis asked.

"They are safe where they are for now." T'Pol said. "We will leave them secured here until we determine how best to make use of them."

Everyone was already turned about to begin climbing in the truck. But that surprised Travis a little.

"What do you mean 'make use of them'?" He asked. "We're not going to trade them?"

"That is what I intend to determine. For now we will investigate the Iron Pit, to find and interrogate the Risian who recruited Malcolm."

Now everyone was curious.

"Wait," Trip said. "We're not just going back to the ship and getting out of here?"

"Or bring the ship to get the certificates?" Loya added.

"Shouldn't we contact our client?" Malcolm frowned.

T'Pol stopped to glare at everyone for a second. To remind them who was the captain around here.

"We have several hours still until we meet with the client." She said. "That gives us time to discover who hired these men to procure the certificates. It is certain they did not plan and orchestrate that job on their own. Then we can assess what opposition we face in that regard, in order to determine whether we will oppose them in order to keep the certificates or turn them over to avoid an overwhelming confrontation. Or whether some equitable arrangement can be struck."

Everyone frowned at that. Because that suddenly sounded dangerous again.

And besides…

"Wait a minute, captain." Malcolm said. "How does going to the Iron Pit and finding the Risian do that? We should have interrogated one of those men, if that's what you meant to do."

"The men will report to their employer as soon as they return to the city." T'Pol said. "Which we can expect to occur within the hour. Their employer will then contact _us_. While we wait for that, we will search for my Vulcan Guard jacket. According to Malcolm's vague recollections, I was still in possession of it at the Iron Pit.

"Once we have settled accounts with whoever is responsible for the theft of the certificates, we will contact our client, exchange the _t'rarthra _extract for our agreed upon payment and leave the planet.

"Additionally, we may be able to broker a bonus of some sort. Our otherwise ill advised sampling of the _t'rarthra _extract in the cargo bay seems to have revealed something our client will be most interested in learning."

"What's that?" Trip asked, frowning.

"_T'rarthra _is attributed anagathic properties." She said. "Extending one's lifespan, inhibiting the effects of aging. While that has never been confirmed and is highly unlikely, the fact remains that it does not typically cause memory loss or effect behavior to any degree at all, much less the effects Malcolm seems to have suffered.

"This suggest the _t'rarthra _extract was poisoned in some manner. It suggests, in fact, certain nerve toxins I recall from the war. Someone is attempting a strategic action against our client, who was to use the _t'rarthra _extract to bless the wine for an upcoming ceremony involving the criminal organization he oversees."

"Yeah," Loya said. "That's how I got the idea. But I didn't mean to poison anybody, though."

"As I'm sure our client does not intend to poison the lieutenants in his organization." T'Pol said. "And we have discovered this where he likely would not have, considering the subtle effects of the toxin."

"Didn't seem very subtle to me." Malcolm said, uncomfortably.

"On the contrary." T'Pol said. "It can be expected that the wine would be sampled, once blessed with the _t'rarthra_ extract, by some underling. His change in behavior would either not immediately be noticed or would be attributed to the consumption of wine. And taken in large enough doses, enough to cause the death I suspect is the intent here, it would already be too late once the poison wine had been consumed by everyone present at the ceremony.

"In fact, it is rather an effective strategy. Whoever strikes against our client would not only kill a large number of high ranking officers in his organization, but would likely cause them to engage in highly dishonorable behavior before they died, thus dishonoring the organization as a whole. That would render the remaining forces all the weaker…"

"Okay, fine." Hoshi interrupted. "But shouldn't we be focusing on all that? Finding out who's behind stealing the certificates and contacting our client? Why are we wasting time going to the Iron Pit?"

The rest of the crew murmured a little, agreeing with that. Not seeing the wisdom and the necessity here.

"According to Malcolm's recollections," T'Pol reminded them, patiently. "I was still in possession of my Vulcan Guard jacket at the Iron Pit…"

"So what?" Hoshi said. "It's just a jacket."

T'Pol's eyebrow leapt to challenge _that _ludicrous statement.

"Hardly…" T'Pol began.

"Yeah…darlin'…" Trip said, "We should probably just get out of here."

"Right." Travis agreed. "We can take a vacation somewhere else."

"This one doesn't seem to be going very well so far." Malcolm nodded.

"I don't care." Loya shrugged. "I just want Malcolm. I can do that on the ship."

T'Pol waited until everyone had the opportunity to note their objections.

Folding her hands comfortably at her back while she listened patiently. Allowing them to have their say.

And when they were done and awaited her response, she offered it.

"I understand your objections." She said, calmly. "But I am not leaving this planet without my jacket."

Everyone's mouth dropped right open, to reiterate their arguments…

"Period." T'Pol said, firmly.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Iron Pit  
****Nuvia City, Risa**

The plan was simple, if not especially solid.

T'Pol and Loya would stay in the truck and watch the street. Being Orion and Vulcan respectively, and each otherwise attractive enough to be quite memorable, it was best if they didn't enter the establishment. They'd be made right off.

Not to mention, Loya was still effectively wearing nothing but a tee shirt.

Malcolm likewise would remain in the truck with them, watching the street and waiting to intervene if that proved necessary. For the same reasons, as he didn't even have a shirt, still sported a cringe-worthy number of cuts and contusions just everywhere from the waist up…

…and, of course, being the famous 'British' that likely everyone in the establishment would instantly recognize and make a fuss about.

Travis would linger at the door inside, ready to signal out to the truck and provide immediate backup himself if it came to that.

Which left Trip and Hoshi to actually enter the place. They, of all of them, being most likely to blend in with the light skinned locals and not attract undo attention. They would carefully question whatever patrons and employees were found inside at this time of day, to discover the identity of the Risian who'd recruited Malcolm for the fights last night. Identify him and determine where he could be found.

Trip's charming and charismatic nature being put to best use interacting with the locals. Hoshi's skills at interpreting being available, as well as her natural talents reading reactions and body language.

It wasn't a bad plan, for something hastily thrown together on the move.

But the two of them didn't even make it to the front door of the building before the whole plan immediately fell apart.

One of the local prostitutes, apparently hitting the streets a little early to get a jump on the competition…instantly spotted Malcolm in the back seat of the truck.

"British!" She exclaimed, surprised and happy.

Of course, immediately recognizing a potential client who'd made quite a lot of money last night and who couldn't possibly have spent more than a fraction of it yet.

She was up on the sidestep of the truck in a flash, arms folded casually in the window. Peering in, grinning brightly, completely oblivious to the concept of personal space.

Loya was already out the door on the far side to come around before anyone even realized she'd left the truck.

"British!" The woman gushed. "Are you fighting again tonight? Oh, you can't, though! Look at you! Oh, _lover! _You're still so beat up! _You _need someone to _take care _of…"

She disappeared suddenly, with an awkward squawk.

That's when Malcolm and T'Pol realized Loya wasn't in the truck anymore.

Because she was out in the street dragging the prostitute around by the hair, cursing up a storm in Low Orion.

"Bollocks." Malcolm muttered, slinging open the door to jump out himself.

T'Pol exited a bit more casually, taking a good look at the situation before jumping right into it.

Trip and Hoshi, though…all this was suddenly happening right at their feet.

Trip tossed a yell at the front door of the Iron Pit.

"_Travis!" _

...before darting over to try to pull Loya off whoever that was she'd taken such a sudden dislike to.

Hoshi stumbled back a bit. Because that was quite a surprisingly lot of violence going on right in front of her all of a sudden. She still hadn't quite gotten used to that sort of thing appearing out of nowhere like it so often did.

Travis exited the building quickly, took in the situation rapidly and ran immediately to go help Trip and Malcolm pull Loya off…whoever that was.

And the doorman of the Iron Pit immediately recognized them all. So he quietly stepped inside the building to let his boss know what was going on outside and to snatch up a few bouncers to go deal with it.

That sort of thing was bad for business, after all.

It took a bit of wrangling before Trip, Malcolm and Travis were able to pull Loya loose from the woman's hair. And to hold her in place so she couldn't go back and yank at it some more.

T'Pol had assessed the situation well enough, though. So she was ready when the prostitute realized she was free and the crazy Orion that attacked her out of nowhere had three men holding her in check.

So when she flipped completely out and ran screaming at Loya, she was already in position to step forward and grab the nearest arm by one hand, to snatch her in place, and to pinch at the base of the neck and shoulder with the other hand.

The prostitute hit the street in a vaguely groaning heap right away. Never having had the occasion to get the first clue what the heck was going on around here so early in the day.

T'Pol waited patiently until Loya finished expressing her emotions. Cursing and yelling in a manner that made Hoshi wince more than once.

Waited patiently until she reached the huffing and heavy breathing phase of all that.

"Loya," She said, patiently. "We will have to discuss your impulsive behavior in regards to Malcolm…"

"He's _mine!" _Loya screamed. Along with another rapid stream of Orion curses.

"Malcolm is well aware of that." T'Pol said, once that wound down a bit. "All of us are. It seems the one who has yet to internalize this is you. I suggest you do so, before I am forced to leave you on the ship from here on, to avoid further incidents like this."

Loya glared back at her. But T'Pol could see that she'd at least been confronted by her behavior and what it suggested about her. That she was already well aware of the problem, in fact.

Then Loya remembered she was able enough to shake these men off her. And promptly did so, snatching herself lose to stand there, fists balled at her side. Still angry, but…

"Fine." She growled.

T'Pol nodded at that. Because that was good enough for now.

"Very well…"

"Uh…captain?" Hoshi said behind her.

And T'Pol turned to find her in the company of four local Risians and two Orions. The Orions dressed in garish silk jackets, suggesting nobility. The Risians just looking like local roughs.

Bouncers, obviously, considering two of them had Hoshi by her arms, to keep her in check. And the fact that they all stood directly in front of the main entrance to the Iron Pit, having just come from there.

T'Pol assessed the situation quickly, then moved to resolve it.

"That is a member of my crew…" She began.

"You shut up." The closest Orion said, before turning his attention to Malcolm. "British, do you have a reason for being here? Other than just wanting someone to break your legs for you?"

Malcolm straightened himself up a bit, reaching to tug his shirt properly into place. Before realizing he wasn't wearing one and wasn't looking at all proper at the moment.

"Well…" He said, uncertainly. "There's the matter of my winnings last night…"

"I thought you must have took one too many hits to the brain when I saw you out here." The Orion sneered. "Let me explain the situation, since you're too stupid to get it.

"You cost us a lot of money last night. But your winnings cover it nicely. It was a good night last night, thanks to you. So if you and your friends get on your little ship and never come back here again, we're happy to let that go. Especially since no one knows you tried to screw us over and no one needs to be made an example of."

Malcolm thought that over for a second.

"Well..." He started.

"If that's a problem," The Orion interrupted. "We can start with the Human girl here."

"That won't be necessary." T'Pol interjected, before things could escalate further. "We are satisfied with the current arrangement."

"Great." The man snorted. "Now get off my planet before my lunch gets cold and you all become worth the trouble."

"There is a small matter, however…" T'Pol suggested, carefully.

"I don't care. And my lunch is getting cold."

"You work for Du'kar, do you not?"

The Orion's eyes narrowed at that.

"What about him?" He asked, not answering the question.

"We have an arrangement with him as well." T'Pol said. "An exchange to make, later today."

"Then make it and get off…" The man snapped.

But he was interrupted by a subtle nudge from the Orion standing next to him. The big, nasty looking one, who T'Pol knew perfectly well was armed and standing there for no other purpose than to start shooting people if his boss lost patience with them all.

They conferred quietly for a moment.

Then the boss grinned, turning back to T'Pol.

"Maybe you'd better stick around after all." He said. "In fact, I'd suggest you go see Du'kar right now, if I didn't think it'd be a lot funnier if you didn't."

T'Pol arced an eyebrow, suddenly finding _that _very interesting.

"I assume…we attended the wedding reception last night?" She guessed.

"From what I hear, you were the night's entertainment." The man chuckled.

"I see. And would you…?"

"Not my problem." The man interrupted. "I don't care. What I _do _care about and what _is _my problem is your being out here disrupting business and wasting my time. So am I going back to my lunch or breaking people's legs out here? What's it going to be?"

"We will leave you to your lunch and your business." T'Pol agreed, readily.

"Good. Now disappear."

He nodded to the side and the men holding Hoshi thrust her forward a bit, to stumble back toward the rest of the group.

Which didn't make Travis happy at all. So he stepped forward to help her keep her feet, glaring at the men who'd thrown her around like that.

That caught the larger, uglier Orion's attention.

"Hey, you." He said, stepping up to present himself. "That's my jacket you're wearing."

This surprised Travis a little. But he was not in any mood conducive to being agreeable with these men.

"Well, it's mine now." He said, glaring.

Prompting the Orion to toss open the garishly colored silk jacket he wore now. Revealing the very intimidating, rapid fire plasma caster on his hip.

"Trade you for it." The man growled. "Where you want it? The face or the gut?"

"Give the man his jacket, Travis." T'Pol suggested, quickly.

And he did.

With discernible reluctance and further glaring, but nevertheless.

The last of the Iron Pit employees reentered the building then, leaving them in the street.

"Now what?" Travis grumbled.

T'Pol turned, considering the unconscious prostitute laying on the street beside her.

And she gestured there.

"Put her in the back of the truck." She said.

* * *

T'Lara Neros had been working the Iron Pit and the street directly outside for just over five years now.

It was dirty and hateful job, but her Night Train habit was up to two hundred credits a day now. How else was she supposed to make that kind of money? And the three or four times she'd _tried _to work some kind of regular job hadn't exactly worked out so well…

So she'd had occasion to wake up with some unusual and typically unpleasant things in her mouth over the course of five years.

Never a phase pistol, though. That was new.

Her eyes shot open a good bit wider when she realized…yes, that was a phase pistol in her mouth.

And, yes, she was propped up against the wall, on a crate or something, down a dirty alleyway where no one was going to see all this and maybe call the city guards…

And the blonde Human holding the pistol…well, everyone knew Humans were crazy…

So she kept still and let her eyes do the talking here. Limiting that entirely to, 'okay…I get it.'

The Human nodded when he saw that.

"Now," He said, "I'm going to take this phase pistol out of your mouth in a second. Before I do, I'm going to ask you a question. Depending on how you answer it, I'm either gonna put it right back in and pull the trigger…or turn you over to my friend here to play with for a while."

He tilted his head to the side slightly, to indicate…the crazy Orion girl her scalp was still crying about.

T'Lara moved her eyes there to recognize _that _situation waiting to happen. Then back to the Human. Otherwise not moving so much as a muscle.

"There's a Risian who recruited my friend, the British, to fight at the Iron Pit last night." The Human said. "Who is he and where can I find him?"

He took the pistol out of her mouth.

"Caros R'Lon. Room 24, Lover's Rest. Ecstasy Street."

The Human smiled and nodded.

"It's down the Silken Path, just two blocks from the Pit." She added.

He nodded again.

"Go right onto Ecstasy from there, down two blocks. It's the rundown hostel with the faded pink roof."

He stared.

"I had to sneak out of there a couple of times. The window onto the alley outside doesn't lock very well. You can get it open from the outside, but you'd have climb up…"

"Okay, thanks." The Human said. "That's…good enough."

"I can show you for ten credits."

"No, that's fine."

"You sure? For twenty I can get him out of the room. Get him naked in an alleyway for you, for fifty."

"No, that's…we'll take it from here, thanks."


	9. Chapter 9

**The Pink Cloud  
****Nuvia City, Risa  
****2000 hours**

It didn't take much to get the girls onboard with the idea. Just a little interaction and a few questions and Hoshi confirmed what she already suspected.

They were all secret romantics. Maybe used up and half of them drug addicted…and they'd never, _ever _admit it…but oh, yes. Secret little hopeless romantics, every one of them.

Plus two of the only three Orions in the troupe immediately started being a couple of sneering, catty little bitches the second they found out Loya was a _k'vesk_.

And all the Risian girls _despised _the both of _them_. They'd had top billing since day one and they kept _stealing _everyone else's regulars. Constantly!

What a couple of shameless bitches, right?

So Hoshi soon had a half dozen dancers in tow, following her lead right off. Not just because it was so fun and exciting helping the poor _k'vesk _win her man like that…but because they could rub it in the two Orion slut's faces while they were at it.

It was a real kick how they both stood over there with their arms folded, sneering and snorting so prissily at everything. Just _seething _that this ridiculous _k'vesk w_as being fawned over like that.

They stripped Loya out of those horrid clothes and went right to work.

Brown cargo pants? Really?

Steel reinforced _combat boots? _Girl, _where _do you _shop?_

And all those guns and knives! Ugh!

A couple of nice, neon pasties to keep things legal…leather g-string with some little danglies bits there…

Perfect!

Now, about that _hair!_

And your _nails! What _have you been _doing?! _

They had to shave Loya a little, because of the g-string. And that got her pretty frisky, so T'Pol had to practically hold her down to keep her from running off to hump Malcolm again. But they finally got her focused.

* * *

T'Pol grabbed the first guy that look vaguely decent right out of the crowd.

Dragged him along before he could figure out whether he was being kidnapped or just having the best day ever. While Hoshi grabbed a chair from one of the nearby tables…

"Okay." Hoshi said. "Now, put the chair right up against the wall. You'll need the wall for support and it adds a touch of helplessness to the whole thing. He's trapped, see?"

Hoshi gave her the nod and T'Pol just pushed the guy a little…sending him to stumble back right down into the chair.

The girls slapping his hands away when he gripped the sides uncertainly, trying to rise up again.

"Do not move." T'Pol said, firmly. With a warning finger.

He quit that, right off.

"Now, he's trapped, see?" Hoshi said. "Can't go anywhere. Totally at your mercy!"

The girls saw. They approved.

Hoshi eyed the display carefully for a second, though.

"Right, so…we need his legs open." She said.

She snapped her fingers at that rapidly, to make it happen.

The girls got right on it, snatching his knees open until he sat there…legs wide open…and suddenly looking very unsure about the 'best day ever' thing now…

"No, no. _Wider!" _Hoshi said_. "_Move his feet apart_, _we want an open 'V' shape. Forty-five degrees, at least. _All the way _would be better."

The girls snatched a little more aggressively.

The guy 'oofed' a little.

"Now you've got room in there to do your thing!" She said, brightly. "And it's real obvious when it starts to work, right? Just watch. He'll be pitching a tent in no time."

Hoshi grabbed Loya then, dragging her over.

"But…but…" Loya dithered.

"No, no! You can _do _this!"

"But it's 'lap dance'?" Loya questioned. "I'll fall off! And I might step on his rocks!"

"Just do what I tell you, it'll be fine!"

"Oh, no…" Loya worried.

"Now, first part's very important." Hoshi advised. "Step one….'Show Him the Stuff'! Stand right _there_…"

She nudged…then finally _pushed _Loya right between the guy's legs.

"…to the side now, look over your shoulder at him…smile! No, like you _mean _it. Pretend it's Malcolm, Loya! Okay, now arch your back a bit…let the girls have some attention! Okay…poke your butt out…no, _high! _There you go! See, now he's got the perfect view!

"Okay, up and down a couple of times…you're suggesting straight up sex now…no, _slower! _No, _really _slow! _Sensually_, Loya, like you're really doing it."

The guy in the chair was already drooling.

"Okay, turn into him…loosen up! This is supposed to be fun! Hands on the wall…or the arms of the chair, if it has arms…now, see? Comfy, right? _Hey, no touching!"_

The girls smacked the offending hands a bit, and T'Pol glared menacingly, until he got the point.

And one of the bouncers had wandered over, taking an interest in the proceedings, so he glared at the guy and growled menacingly as well.

So that put an end to all that.

"Step two…'The Tease'!" Hoshi said, coming alongside to get a better look at things. Maintaining overwatch here.

Loya was right over the guy, hands on the wall just above his head, chest right in his face. And he was gripping the sides of the chair pretty tight.

"Now, move in! Just a tease, so don't touch! No, no, back up again. _Slower_, inch by inch…let him see the girls coming. Make a _dance _out of it, don't just attack him with your boobs! Okay, slower…stop! No touching! Now, you swoop down really gracefully and sensually…but, quick! So it's a surprise! Right up against his chest."

Loya balked.

"But…you said no touching!"

"Except for this part." Hoshi amended. "Really! It's the only touching part! See, because _then _he's thinking you might touch again later! But you won't, so he's _anticipating_…"

Loya grumbled…but she let the girls bump him one time. For just a second…

"Okay, well you're going to have to do better than that." Hoshi frowned.

A slow, sensual _slide _then…

The guys was just about vibrating now.

"See? He loves it!" Hoshi beamed, clapping. "Okay, now step three…'Wish You Were Here'!"

"What that is?" Loya frowned.

"Back between his legs…okay, show him the stuff again…no butt _higher_, Loya. Hands on your boobs…caress them a bit…make him jealous! Okay, down your stomach…all the way…okay, no, not _that _far. Okay, seriously, stop that…"

"But that works." Loya objected. "Look, see?"

"Yes, but we're _teasing! _We don't want to get him off!"

Loya grumbled.

"Turn around…no, same position. Butt high, back arched, girls at attention…massage your butt a bit. Really work it! The whole idea here is that he can't touch, so he's got to _imagine _he's massaging your butt."

"This is making me horny, Hoshi!" Loya pouted.

"Well, that's what Malcolm's for."

"Can I go…?"

"No, we're not finished!"

Loya growled, frustrated.

"Look, this is the easy part , I promise! Step three…The 'Hip-Notizer'! Now you've got him all worked up, right? So face him…right, like that. Bend your knees a little…now sway your hips…see, this is why music helps here, it gives you something to move to…right, see? This is the dance part!"

The girls all stood and watched, lips pursed, arms folded, eyes narrowed.

T'Pol took notes on her data unit, eyeing the proceedings critically.

A couple of other bouncers wandered over. Because a crowd had started to form and whatever was happening over here was actually distracting from Emerald up there on the stage. And she was the main attraction.

"Now, step four…we bring it all home with the 'Cowgirl'!"

"What a cowgirl is?" Loya frowned, irritably.

"Just dance right out of the Hip-Notizer and into the Cowgirl. Swing your butt right over his crotch…no, _up _a bit. No touching, remember? Move around in circles, right over him…pretend you're painting his whole lap with your butt."

"That's stupid!"

"Look, it works! We're suggesting sex here, remember?"

"This is _not _making sex!"

"Just do it, Loya! Round and round…okay, now up and down a bit…"

"_That's _making sex, Hoshi!"

"Right, so do that a bit…now look back over your shoulder and smile…or better yet, lick your lips, like you're really into it…just pretend it's Malcolm back there again…right! See? Okay, a few more seconds…that's it! Done!"

Hoshi stepped over and dragged Loya away, turning her around to look at the poor guy in the chair.

She put out one hand, presenting the scene for review.

"There you go!" Hoshi said proudly.

Loya frowned and looked it over.

The guy was sitting there trembling. Tent firmly pitched. Gripping the sides of the chair like his life depended on it.

Panting.

"See?" Hoshi grinned.

Loya…had to concede the point.

"Okay, that worked." She said. "That will work on Malcolm?"

"Honey, that will work on _anybody_."

"Me next!" One of the girls piped up. "Teach me!"

"Me, too! I can do it!" Said another.

"I am…uncertain." T'Pol said. "I think I would benefit more from a second demonstration."

So they grabbed a few more chairs from the tables and the bouncers grabbed a few more guys from the crowd.

And they went to work.

They had three-quarters of the crowd gathered on their side of the floor by the time they were halfway through The Tease.

And Emerald did not appreciate having three-quarters of the crowd snatched right out from under her like that. Especially when she found out about the _k'vesk_.

There was really only one way to cause a major disturbance in the Pink Cloud. The sort that got people's heads cracked open. So she set about making that happen. Turning on the charms, tossing some pheromones around…

And the lap dance class going on down on the floor suddenly had a half dozen guys who weren't onboard with the 'no touch' rule. Which prompted a few other more impulsive creeps to follow suite.

Things got out of hand. And the bouncers started cracking heads.

Then Trip, Malcolm and Travis finally figured out where the girls had gone and they showed up. They were not happy with what they discovered. And they took out their disagreement with that on the three dozen men doing their best to get their hands on things they shouldn't.

Trip put down four of them. Travis another five.

Malcolm, though…he ended up having the bouncers back _him _up. He had about two dozen guys either laid out cold or writhing on the floor in unbearable agony.

They broke it up pretty quick.

The girls were very appreciative.

But then Caros witnessed the whole thing, saw the golden opportunity it represented and was dragging Malcolm away before Loya could jump him on the floor like she really, seriously needed to right then.

And T'Pol decided it was logical to pursue and protect Malcolm, instead of trying the lap dance ritual on Trip. As she would have preferred.

And Hoshi just had to know why Travis was so furious at her all of a sudden. Because that hurt her feelings, what he said.

So everyone ended up going after Malcolm.

And Hoshi didn't manage to get Travis to stop and explain what the hell his problem was until they got to the Iron Ring.

Then he finally admitted he was jealous. And Hoshi found out he didn't know they already had a thing going on here. That he thought they _didn't _have a thing going on here. And that he was mad because he thought she was dancing in some other guy's lap instead of his.

So she had to put all _that _straight right away.

So while T'Pol and Trip sat on Loya, so Malcolm could jump in the pit…she dragged him into the restroom. Because she'd never done in a restroom before. That was just way too naughty and…_dirty_.

It was fantastic. All two minutes of it.

It was _amazing _how fantastic it was. Like she'd taken some kind of drug that just made things like that…amazingly fantastic.

And there was a tattoo shop right down the street, on the corner of Ecstasy Street. So she had just the most amazingly fantastic idea ever. An even more amazingly fantastic idea than teaching Loya how to lap dance.

The Orion tattoo girl only spoke Orion, though. So Hoshi had to explain what she wanted in Low Orion. But she was pretty sure she got the idea across, even if Travis kissing on her neck like that was so amazingly fantastically distracting…


	10. Chapter 10

**Sacred Mark  
****Corner of Silken Path and Ecstasy Street  
****Nuvia City, Risa**

Hoshi was getting frustrated.

She'd seen the shop as they passed by and…it all just came back to her.

Came out of nowhere and just smacked her right in the face.

She couldn't remember everything perfectly. It was all really hazy…like an old memory of an old memory. Like…something you did being so remarkable that it became a story your friends told all the time…even years after you couldn't really remember doing it. So that the details all got mixed up and lost and glossed over. You couldn't tell what you were actually remembering and what you were just remembering _being _remembered.

But…yeah.

She'd taught Loya how to lap dance. And a bunch of strippers at the Pink Cloud. Because…well, she didn't really know _why _the heck she'd thought that was such a good idea at the time.

But she had. She'd thought it was the best idea ever…and so she just did it.

Just like…oh, God. Making out with Travis in the bathroom.

Or…okay, fine! She went _all the way _with Travis in the bathroom. She'd never done anything like that in her life! Ever! She would have never even _thought _of doing that!

In a bathroom! A bathroom in some kind of…pit fighting club?!

What the hell had she been thinking?!

And then a tattoo?! On her…lower stomach? Good grief, what kind of weird nerve toxin thing was this stuff they'd drank? Who invented something like that and thought it was a great idea?

Right now would be a really _great _time to have a universal translator. She sort of followed along a little…but her grasp of Low Orion maybe wasn't all that solid. And the Orion tattoo artist barely understood English Standard herself.

Loya listened patiently to the tattoo girl. Then nodded.

"It is…organic." Loya said, turning to Hoshi. "Organics with…electronic display on the top? You put it under the skin and then eventually the organic part is…the body eats it? You know? That leaves the electronic parts there, along the skin."

Hoshi huffed, frustrated.

"Okay, but what does it _mean?"_

Loya asked the tattoo girl.

The tattoo girl answered. "Belong for avarice." She said.

"Belonging _to _avarice." Loya corrected.

The tattoo girl nodded. "Yes, that. Belonging for the…_to _the avarice."

"_Slave to greed_, you mean." Hoshi frowned. "Why did I get _that _on my…stomach?"

"That is not your stomach…" Loya argued.

"Whatever! Why did I have 'slave to greed' tattooed on me?!"

Loya asked, the girl answered. "That what you say."

She shrugged.

Hoshi was already gritting her teeth.

So T'Pol took the opportunity to break in, wanting to be certain she wasn't wasting her time with all this.

"Was I here for this?" She asked.

Loya asked the tattoo girl, listened to her response in Orion. Then nodded.

"She says you came in and made the Humans leave with you."

"Was I wearing my jacket at the time?"

Hoshi growled.

"_Captain…"_

"I only want to know if I was wearing my jacket _after _we departed the pit fighting establishment."

"Yes." Loya said. "She saw you for only a moment, but you were wearing a Vulcan jacket. Military, with Vulcan words? On the shoulders."

"Okay!" Hoshi exclaimed, reaching the limits of her patience. "Now why did I have that tattooed on my stomach! What does it _mean?"_

Loya asked, listened, answered.

"She doesn't know." She said. "She wants to know if you are a prostitute. That would make sense."

Hoshi tossed her hands down. And stomped one foot, because she couldn't figure out any other way to express her frustration here…

Except maybe digging into her very impressive collection of multilingual curses. She rarely had a good opportunity use them.

This certainly seemed like one…

"Wait." T'Pol said…because she suddenly had an idea.

Everyone looked at her.

"You said…you engaged with sexual relations with Travis immediately prior to this?"

Hoshi blushed a little but…

"I'm…pretty sure. But that's not exactly what I'd call _greedy_. At least, that's not the _first _adjective that comes to mind…"

"Not greedy. Avarice." Loya insisted. "The same but the differences are…sneaky, I think?"

"_Subtle_. And it's 'slave to greed'." Hoshi argued. "'Belonging to avarice' doesn't make any sense."

"No." T'Pol said.

Because she was Vulcan. And she suddenly understood exactly what Hoshi had been trying to accomplish here.

What she'd said to the Orion tattoo girl who barely understood English Standard.

It actually wasn't a bad idea, in fact. If she and Trip ever managed to physically consummate _their _bond, she might have the same procedure done herself. That would be…quite romantically symbolic, at least by Vulcan standards.

"Not slave to greed." T'Pol said. "Nor belonging to avarice. _Property of Travis_."

It took a moment for Hoshi to absorb that.

Then her jaw dropped.

"Wha…?"

"She misinterpreted 'Travis' as the English Standard word 'avarice'. Then translated that to Orion, assuming that is what you wished."

"Wha…buh…?"

"A symbolic affirmation of his possession of your genitalia." T'Pol explained. "And your possession of his, although I would have recommended having him marked in the same manner…"

Hoshi stared, wide-eyed.

"That was quite romantic, Hoshi." T'Pol observed. "You should inform him of this immediately."

Hoshi sputtered helplessly.

"Perhaps he can take the opportunity to have the same done here. In fact, that would be most appropriate."

It cost almost two hundred credits but they finally haggled an interface module out of the tattoo girl.

And discovered that's where she made her real business. The tattoo implants themselves were cheap but half of her clients were drunk. And they came back days or week later to buy interfaces to change the display, or turn it on and off.

That's when she gouged them mercilessly. As she did Hoshi now.

Hoshi just turned it off for now, shoving the interface firmly down in one pocket. And swore T'Pol and Loya to secrecy on pain of violent death.

Travis didn't even seem to remember them doing it. And she'd take that secret right to her grave, if she possibly could.

She _liked _Travis. A lot. Maybe…_more _than liked a lot, to be perfectly honest.

_No way _their first time was going to be in a public restroom.

Because, no. That never happened.

It didn't happen.

_Never. Happened._

They left the shop then, to face the guys outside. And they'd long since grown irritable at being left out in the street and not told what the heck was going on here.

* * *

They parked the truck across the street from the Lover's Rest. And they staked the place out for about an hour, to be sure they wouldn't be walking into any trouble.

Which might have worked out perfectly, since one of the regularly scheduled _fal-menya _happened down the street by then. Something of a cross between a street fair and a parade. And, like your typical parade, there was a very loud sort of marching band involved. One that kicked off every time the _fal-menya _moved a block down the street to stop and hawk their trinkets and gaming booths.

Perfect cover for any noisy interaction that Caros might require to get information out of him. Or for just kicking in the door. Or whatever.

It also illustrated one of those occasions where T'Pol's tendency to be overcautious about certain things might have worked against them, though.

Because they staked the place out for an hour. And that gave J'Mar and his gang of Risians time to show up suddenly, before they could decide to take advantage of the noise. And they entered the hostel, obviously looking for Caros. Because Caros was the guy to go to if you were looking for 'the British'.

"Well, that's just great." Trip grumped, looking out the window from the front seat. "Now what?"

"I said we should have killed them." Loya pointed out. "Now they're trouble again."

"Captain," Hoshi said. "Any chance we can just go ahead and call the client…?"

"No." T'Pol said firmly. "I was still in possession of my jacket when we left the Iron Pit and the Sacred Mark. And there is a distinct possibility that we mentioned to Caros where we intended to go next."

"It's just a _jacket_…"

"It is not merely a jacket, Hoshi."

"If the captain wants her jacket back," Trip said, as firmly. "Then we're getting her jacket back."

"Are we going to kill them this time?" Loya asked.

"Only if that is necessary." T'Pol said.

"It _already _was necessary. Does that count?"

"No."

Malcolm realized he was the only one who hadn't voiced his opinion here…

But he already understood why the jacket was important to T'Pol. Just as he suspected Trip had. It was the only thing she took with her when she left Vulcan behind. And she'd left Vulcan behind in more ways than one.

So he didn't offer his opinion here. He offered his help instead.

"We need a plan, then." He said. "If just busting in the room and shooting them all is off the table, that is…"

Trip suddenly chuckled.

"Hey, I've got an idea." He said, grinning. "Anyone ever see 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly'?"

"What that is?" Loya frowned.

"A movie. A Human movie. A real classic, in fact."

"I think I might have." Malcolm said, searching his memory. "What about it?"

"There are two kinds of spurs, my friend." Trip said. "Those that come in by the door; those that come in by the window."

Loya contemplated that for a moment.

"What that means?" She asked.


	11. Chapter 11

**Lover's Rest  
****Ecstasy Street  
****Nuvia City, Risa**

T'Pol waited in the alleyway outside, while Trip and Hoshi chatted with the hostel operator within and Malcolm, Travis and Loya made use of the meager distraction to casually make their way upstairs without being paid any particular attention to.

T'Pol found the situation quite agreeable, even encouraging.

Not the plan so much. That was rather hastily thrown together and not especially clever. Rather that Trip had suddenly and quite surprisingly assumed the use of their bond to communicate in the course of it.

He'd mentioned it in passing, in fact. As if it were assumed. He was entirely that comfortable with it. The gentle 'nudge' they were able to give one another, to call attention to something. Such as where they were at the moment, for example, to call to one another. Or the relatively more advanced version of that, to share an easy, general impression about something.

She'd introduced it to him much in that manner. Projecting her appreciation for having cooked a palatable meal one evening over dinner. He almost hadn't recognized what she'd done at first, but when he did he'd been shocked.

She had of course warned him well in advance, months ago, that the bond would be a _literal_ psychic bond. That the implication there was generally accurate. But it had shocked him nonetheless. He proved…a little uncomfortable with it after that and so she'd moved more carefully since. Even taking pains to _slow _the progression of their bond in order to avoid any undo emotional distress in her mate.

To find him suddenly comfortable enough with it as to even assume it…yes, very encouraging.

In fact, she'd been unable to restrain herself after that. The moment he was out of sight in the hostel and she waited patiently in the alleyway, she very unnecessarily gave him a 'nudge' to let him know she was there. Conveying the impression of where she stood in the alley, her general sense of being, approval of the plan in general…just an open, generalized impression.

Entirely unnecessary, but she really was unable to resist. And she'd not only sensed his awareness and reception…she'd received a very comfortable affirmation. Where he was, how he was feeling at the moment, a general conveying of his concerns.

Even where Hoshi was in relation to him, the fact that the rest of the crew had just moved out of sight up the stairs, an undefined overall impression of the interior of the building and of the hostel operator herself…

Surprising. His reciprocal response proved relatively detailed and clear, despite it being intended as nothing more than a mere acknowledgement.

So not only was he comfortable with the bond, at least to this degree, but the bond itself seemed to have progressed well beyond her expectations. Not only having _not _been restrained, as she would otherwise have been sure she had successfully restrained it, but actually progressing further than she'd have expected otherwise.

Unexpected, encouraging and…exciting.

She would have wondered what could have caused the bond to have jumped to that level in only the two weeks since she became aware of it herself…and thus had the opportunity to realize the most obvious explanation for that.

But she was too distracted by the unexpected excitement she experienced to question it.

* * *

J'Mar took a good look around the little room. It was apparent right away the sort of business Caros conducted here. He rented the room himself, the whole room. Then let out the other three bunks for free to his clients. So they could lounge around, burning out their minds with the drugs he sold them, and be right on hand to dole out more credits for another hit. Until they were finally broke, of course, and he tossed them right out in the hallway.

It was a 'space chamber'. That and group prostitution…mostly what the hostels around Nuvia City were best known for. Some combination of both as often as not.

Caros must have done well for himself fronting the British at the Iron Pit, too. Because the big mountain of pink powder stacked up on the table right there in the center of the room…that was worth a lot of creds. Enough that he'd have had his boys move that carefully out of the way, to take it with them when they were done here.

But as it happened, the boss was paying them quite well enough for this job. As well as demanding a very high price for any failure to recover those certificates. Not just their deaths, but death in a very prolonged and horribly agonizing manner. Forget the powder then, getting to the British is what mattered here. Absolutely nothing else.

So they poured alcohol on it and lit it on fire, once they had him tied to the chair right there in front of it.

He squealed about that a bit, until Benti slapped him around some. Then he shut up and whimpered, watching it burn.

J'Mar just waited. Waited for the _fal-menya _outside to move again and make enough noise to cover things in here. And Caros got curious quickly enough about why they were just standing around him not asking him any questions.

"What…what do you want?" He blubbered.

"What I want." J'Mar said, grinning menacingly. "I want to know where to find the British."

"I don't know!" Caros said, instantly. And he would have said more if Tamish didn't smack alongside the head again.

J'Mar held up a hand, forestalling any more of that.

"No, don't say anything now." He said, reassuringly. "Wait until we push your face into all that burning Pink a couple of times."

Caros really started blubbering then, and Tamish and Benti had to work together to smack him a few times for being too loud about it.

When he had his undivided attention again, J'Mar held up a finger. Cocking his head a little, listening intently outside. So Caros listened intently, too. Until he figured out what they were listening for.

Then the _fal-menya _picked up and starting moving down the street, to the next block over.

And J'Mar grinned.

* * *

"Lap dancing?" Malcolm asked, speaking low but more than a little surprised. "I would have assumed you knew all about that sort of thing."

They moved on down the hallway, to the door of the room adjoining room 24. Room 23, with its shared bathroom. Travis staying behind at the stairs to regroup with Hoshi when she arrived.

"Why?" Loya asked at first. Then, when she realized. "Because I am Orion woman?"

"Well…yes."

"I don't even know to dance much." Loya shrugged. "I never heard of dancing in someone's lap before."

"That's almost as surprising as _Hoshi _knowing about that sort of thing." Malcolm smirked. "Wouldn't have thought that."

Loya didn't find _that_ very pleasing. That he even had an _opinion _on Hoshi's skills.

"I can do it now." She reminded him. Firmly.

"Rather looking forward to a demonstration." He smirked. And suggestively at that.

That was much better. She had to smile and brush against him a bit for that.

They arrived at the door. And waited there casually, nearby. Pretending to be patrons lounging in the hall, until Hoshi could arrive up the stairs to join with Travis again.

"Can't say I like the idea of you lap dancing some other fellow, though." He frowned. "Even if it were just…practice, or whatever you called it..."

"Why?" Loya asked, immediately. "I was good. You should have seen. He was _very _aroused, very _peaked_."

Malcolm just stared at her.

"I was very good." She insisted.

"That's even worse, Loya."

She blinked at that.

"What? Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" He asked, surprised himself. "I don't want you dancing in some other fellow's lap."

"Why not?" Loya asked. "I think I'm very good at it now…"

"Loya! I can't believe you're asking, the way you've been carrying on since we got here."

She searched the air over his head for a moment, trying to figure out what in the world her Human man was talking about here. And Malcolm saw her confusion.

"Hold on, now." He said. "Let's be sure we understand one another. You _do _realize I'm not about to share you with some other bloke, don't you?"

"What is 'bloke'?"

"Another man."

"I don't have any. Only one, you."

"And I'd rather keep it that way, thank you."

"What? Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?!"

"I know Human men don't like to share." She said, frowning. Because she wasn't _stupid_. "But if I found another man, you would not…?"

"Certainly not!"

That set her to blinking again.

"You mean…even just…?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"Not even…?"

"No."

She frowned. Deeply.

"Loya, I realize you're Orion…but the way you feel whenever you even think some _other _woman might be a little too cozy with me? That's how _I'd _feel if you were to slide up to some other fellow."

That…_surprised _her.

Not that she hadn't been well aware, of course. He _was _Human. But to actually have it said…she suddenly realized she really _hadn't _quite internalized that aspect of his Human nature.

And she found she wasn't as prepared to handle that as she…well, she just _wasn't _prepared.

Malcolm saw her staring at him, eyes narrowed. Looking him over speculatively.

"Loya…" He started.

"We will negotiate that later." She said.

"Negot-…? You mean _discuss _it. And I don't see anything to discuss."

"Then we won't." She shrugged. "That's up to you."

"Loya…"

"We have business _here _to do. That will be for later."

* * *

Caros was doing his best not to scream about it all. It hurt, sure. Burned pretty badly, in fact.

But it hurt worse when the one with the shaved head used the kitchen tools on him, so he had to make do with whimpering and whining and doing his very best not to scream out loud.

Except when the _fal-menya _moved again. Then he was allowed to scream all he wanted. And to beg, and cry, and make all the noise he liked.

Three times already. And they kept pouring his really good, really _expensive _Rose Petal Sunburn on the pile of Pink and setting it right back on fire again. And pushing his face into it until it burned out.

At least they put his head out after a few seconds, if it didn't look like it'd go out on its own. And the burning Pink he'd inhaled or flat out swallowed was probably taking the edge off a lot more than they thought it would...

* * *

Travis met her at the top of the stairs, ready to move on down to Room 23 and gain entrance there. Secure the bathroom and prepare to provide emergency backup.

Hoshi was actually starting to get into this stuff. 'Securing' places and 'conducting actions' and 'tactical…stuff'. It was more than a little scary, of course. But…kind of fun and exciting, too.

Except when people got hurt. Not so much when something like that happened. But when they _did_ manage to pull things off without people shooting and things exploding…that was a lot of fun.

So she was getting into it. Kind of getting into the role here. Space pirates! That what she was. She was a _space pirate!_

Travis knocked all that right out of her head before she even got out of the stairwell.

"So you got a tattoo?" He grinned.

She stumbled, right in the doorway.

"Oh, careful." He said, offering his support.

"Uh…" She said, stuttering a bit. "Something like…sort of…"

"You weren't in there long enough for that." He said, once she'd regained her feet. "So when we were all…drugged or drunk or whatever we were?"

"Uh…yeah."

"What did you get?"

Hoshi stared at him. Suddenly trapped.

"Oh." He said, realizing. "I didn't think…forget I said anything…"

"No! It's just…well, it's…"

"No, sorry. Didn't mean to embarrass you…"

"Well, it _is _kind of…a little..."

"Okay, no problem. Forget I asked."

They stood there uncomfortably for a moment. Instead of linking up with Malcolm and Loya like they were supposed to be doing.

"You know, I'm probably going to see it sooner or later." He said suddenly, grinning.

_That _made her heart skipped a couple of beats.

"And I'm going to give you a hard time about it."

A couple _more _beats. A hard…? Did he really have to word it like that?

"Uh…" She stuttered.

And Travis looked surprised.

"Wow." He said, seeing her reaction. "Now I can't _wait _to give you a hard time…"

"Okay, really. Stop."

Travis chuckled. "I'm just picking fun at you, Hoshi. Don't be embarrassed."

"Well, just…let's not talk about it."

_Now _he looked embarrassed all over again. And he clearly felt bad, not realizing just how uncomfortable this apparently was for her.

"Sorry." He said, quietly. "Didn't mean to…"

"Travis." She interrupted. Because she suddenly came to an abrupt decision here.

"Yeah?"

"You do realize…?" She said, hesitantly. "I mean, we've been friends ever since I came aboard the _Seleya_."

"Yeah, sure."

"And I thought…I mean, I guess I just _assumed_…"

He looked a little confused.

"Assumed what?"

She suddenly had no idea what to say here. And she was usually pretty good with words. It was kind of her thing.

Then it occurred to her that there were other forms of communication. Often enough even more reliable than mere words. And having had that thought, the impulse sprang into being. So she went right ahead and let that happen.

She tipped forward a bit and kissed him.

Right on the mouth. For about a second and a half. Just enough to share a good taste and let it be nice and warm a bit, before pulling back to look at him again.

He was shocked. Which was great, because it gave her a second to recognize, firmly grasp and safely tuck away the wonderful realization that he smelled and tasted pretty good. And how she was definitely going to do that again for a lot longer than a second and a half.

She held eye contact, albeit nervously.

Until she saw just the barest glimmer in there…

Okay, good.

So she moved on down to link up with Malcolm and Loya before any kind of discussion could happen here and ruin things.

* * *

Trip hung around in the front entrance of the place, chatting it up with the hostel operator until everyone had time to get into position. Until T'Pol gave him another little nudge to let him know she was already making her way up the wall outside the second floor balcony.

Then he gave the outrageously flirtatious old cougar behind the counter a flirtatious smile of his own, with the unspoken promise that he'd definitely be back to see _her _again…and made his way up the stairs.

Probably not even necessary, as the Lover's Rest seemed the sort of rundown flophouse that didn't bother keeping track of who had a room there and who didn't, who was going to visit whom or generally making any effort to provide any measure of security beyond some cheap locks on the doors.

But after a little shudder to shake that one off, he arrived on the second floor. And he immediately knew what he was looking at here was going to be a problem.

Travis was looking pretty stunned down there by the door to Room 23. And Hoshi was blushing a bit, trying not to look nervous or uncomfortable about that.

And Malcolm was stewing furiously over something having to do with Loya, glaring at her a bit. While Loya had her war face on, ready to do her job and completely ignore whatever had Malcolm so upset.

T'Pol picked up on every bit of that through their bond, surprisingly. He could _feel _her taking it all in, assessing it and coming to a determination regarding it. All through him.

Which…was a little weird. But he was somehow just fine with it anyway.

Then she just told him what to do and he…just did it. Because that somehow just happened and he was fine with it.

Again, weird but…okay.

"Hey!" He snapped at them. Snapped _quietly_, of course. With a glare and a frown on top of that, just to get the point across. "You guys want to put aside the drama for a minute? Until we deal with the armed thugs in there?"

T'Pol…didn't quite agree with the wording. Would have put it in an entirely different manner…

But…that was sufficient.

Because they did indeed put the drama aside for a moment, in order to focus on dealing with the armed thugs. So very well, then.

The door lock to Room 23 was…just painfully ridiculous. Not a bad lock, of course. Good enough to deter your average meathead. But the door had been kicked in so many times in the past that the lock bolt itself just rested up against the cheap doorframe.

So forget picking the lock. And forget bringing along a ex-Starfleet engineer to get you past the thing. All it took was borrowing a knife from Loya, popping the doorframe lose and just propping it right up against the wall behind them.

Done. Door lock bypassed. It was just sitting right there, not resting against anything at all now.

Trip walked right in, Travis right behind and Hoshi taking position in the doorway. And only one of the four guys in the room _wasn't _passed out so hard that he had a chance to notice people walking right into the room.

Travis just kept a plasma pistol and evil grin on that guy while Trip took his spot in the bathroom, ready to kick in the door if Malcolm and Loya ran into any trouble in there.

The _fal-menya _picked up again outside barely a moment later, one block further on down the street already and moving on now to the next block. So they didn't really have a lot of time to play around here. And Trip could sense that T'Pol was already up the wall and on the balcony out there anyway.

He gave Travis the signal in the other room. He relayed that to Hoshi, who passed it on to Malcolm and Loya outside. And those two prepared to be as obvious as they possibly could about moving stealthily up on the door under cover of the noisy _fal-menya _going on outside.


	12. Chapter 12

**Lover's Rest  
****Ecstasy Street  
****Nuvia City, Risa**

T'Pol was Vulcan.

They didn't have very many trees on Vulcan for little Vulcan children to climb, to build tree houses in or fall off and suffer their first ever broken limb.

They did, however, have cliffs and bluffs just about everywhere, in and amongst all the shifting sand and sand dunes. Those served essentially the same purpose for little Vulcan children.

So climbing up the alleyway wall of the Lover's Rest to the second story balcony of Caros R'Lon's room under the relative three-quarter gravity of a _Minshara _class planet like Risa…

Literally child's play.

She was up and on the balcony in mere seconds. She even arrived quietly, without drawing attention to herself, despite the _fal-menya _currently sitting at rest a block down the street and providing no noise to cover her movements at all.

Inside the room, Caros was hastily babbling everything he could think of to keep the men in the room from hurting him anymore and that served the purpose adequately enough.

"Six of them!" He was saying. "Uh…four Humans! Uh…the British and another light skinned male. They called him 'the Tripper', I think! Like when you make someone fall down? Uh…one female and…uh…one dark male…uh…a Vulcan woman and…uh…an Orion…they called her 'the Royal', I think…"

_Smack._

"We know all that. What else?"

"They have a ship! Down on the docks! They're off-worlders!"

_Smack._

"Of course they're off-worlders! _What else? _You're running out of time, Caros!"

"I…I think they're working for Du'kar!"

Sudden silence.

Which Caros took immediate advantage of.

"At least I think so! They said they were going to the wedding reception. Du'kar's daughter? Like they were invited. Yes, they had an invitation! I remember now! And they…"

Sounds of shuffling, Caros being yanked about a bit. His sudden whimpering.

"You said they _worked _for Du'kar. Why did you say that? Going to a party doesn't mean they _work _for him…"

"They kept calling him 'the client'! Like…they had a job! Like he hired them!"

Silence again.

For several seconds.

Caros whimpering a little more lightly now. Trying not to distract from whatever was keeping these men from smacking him around for a moment.

"J'Mar…that sounds like…"

"Shut up, I'm thinking."

"Sure, but…'the Tripper'? 'The British' and 'the Royal'? These people sound like real professionals. Maybe we should…"

"I said shut up!"

Outside, down the street, the _fal-menya _suddenly picked up again. The music blaring and thumping in the air, signaling that they were on the move.

And that meant it was time to burn Caros a little more.

T'Pol could hear the sounds of the man in the room hastily begging for them not to do that, because he suddenly had a lot more to say…

She sent Trip the signal, giving him a little nudge to let him know she was on the balcony and ready to begin. For him to signal to Malcolm and Loya in turn, to let them know to prepare to take advantage of the sudden stillness following the _fal-menya's _noise, to attract attention to themselves.

But there was that annoying and entirely unavoidable aspect of plans of this sort…

They never actually go according to plan. In fact, it seemed the more one carefully and precisely planned for every eventuality, the more likely something entirely unexpected would occur.

Such as J'Mar's sudden anxiety causing him to decide to have a quick stim while his men busied themselves scorching Caros' face in what was left of the burning Pink on the table. And the fact that he preferred poppers…small capsules you broke under your nose for a quick whiff.

Poppers of that sort had a bit of an acrid after-scent that lingered a little. So it was considered polite to step outside or into another room for a second to pop them. A habit he'd naturally picked up over the years, so he stepped out on the balcony to do that despite it not really being necessary under the current circumstances.

J'Mar was worried, after all. The people they were after seemed like they might be professional mercenaries of some sort. Maybe even assassins. And maybe the Orions were even aware of what his boss was planning and had taken steps to prepare for it. Maybe even…taking steps to prepare to strike _back_.

That was troubling, to say the least. Things hadn't exactly gone very well the first time they ran into those guys back at the shacks. So he suddenly found he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of being hunted all over Nuvia City by these mysterious off-worlders, should the boss's bid to snatch territory from the Orions fail.

Naturally he wasn't paying much attention to what was waiting for him out on the balcony. He had no reason to. It was a balcony. It's not as if the British would be out there waiting to snatch him or anything.

He focused on his worries instead, and on the popper he quickly produced from one pocket, popped and took a good whiff of as he stepped out onto the balcony.

He was completely unaware of what happened to him then, when T'Pol simply reached over from where he'd completely failed to notice her, pinched him on the neck with one hand and gave him a little shove at the small of the back with the other.

Except for a quick, vague wondering at how that popper must have really been some good stuff right before the lights went out. Because it sure seemed like he was flying all of a sudden.

* * *

Tamish was getting tired of this, really.

The alcohol in the Pink didn't even burn all that hot. Sure it gave the guy blisters and they'd burned most of his hair off. And, sure, his face and neck were all red and angry about it all.

But it's not like they were peeling his face off or anything. You'd think he'd toughen up a bit and stop wailing like a little girl. It had gotten pretty irritating a long time ago. Even the loud, thumping music from the _fal-menya _down the street was starting to get on his nerves. He was already kind of looking forward to being done here and just burning the guy's face off for real. With a plasma pistol this time.

You know, just to be _done _here.

And besides, this was starting to make him very nervous. These guys sounded like they might be real badasses…

J'Mar needed to get back in here and tell them what to do. Say they were done so they could blast this guy and…go do whatever they were going to do about all this.

But…he wasn't on the balcony out there anymore. Tamish could see that right off, when he glanced nervously over there. And he still wasn't out there when he took a second look.

That…

Okay, that might be a problem.

"Benti, Siles…" He said, quietly. Warningly. To get the guys focused on how there might be a problem.

They didn't hear him of course, because of the stupid _fal-menya_. So he raised his voice…

"Hey, guys…!"

Right exactly when the _fal-menya _stopped and went quiet again, so his voice rang out and startled everybody. Which at least got them all focused and listening sharply.

So they immediately heard the big, clomping sound of boots out in the hall just to either side of the door. And heard how those boots suddenly, very threateningly stopped clomping out there the very second they could be heard.

Tamish glanced warily, wide-eyed, between the balcony and the door to the suddenly too-small room he found himself trapped in.

Then glanced back and forth again, hand already reaching nervously for the plasma pistol in his waistband.

Because…right, those guys were professional badasses…

* * *

Trip got a general impression of what had just happened on the other side of the door. T'Pol sent it, whether intentionally or inadvertently, he couldn't tell. But one guy had wandered out on the balcony and was suddenly not a concern anymore. And the other five guys in the room had heard Malcolm and Loya in the hall, so they were drawing guns and looking back and forth in _both _directions, instead of just at the door…

So he improvised. Because, yeah, things never go exactly according to plan. You had to be ready to improvise.

He was already standing in the bathtub, right next to the door, taking advantage of the cover of the wall. Just in case. So he reached out and knocked politely on the door to the other room. And he whispered, loudly and harshly.

"Hey, Caros!" He whispered, anxiously. "I think the British is out in the hall looking for you! He looks really mad!"

Definite sounds of people shifting around in the room now. T'Pol sending the impression immediately…yeah they were taking cover in there, weapons ready.

Okay, so that was a bit more according to plan then.

* * *

Tamish kept his plasma pistol trained on the door, crouching down behind Caros where he sat in the chair slumped over mumbling a little to himself.

He spared a glance back at the balcony every few seconds, because J'Mar stubbornly insisted on still being not there anymore. But there was no one else out there, so maybe he just got sniped or something. The balcony was in clear view, so no one could be hiding out there unless they were crouched up on the _side _of the thing, along the railing. _That _wasn't very likely.

So he focused on the door, along with everyone else. Waiting, tense…

Nothing happened.

Which made it all the more tense and anxious.

He knew what was going on here. Those guys were out in the hall, waiting for the _fal-menya _to move again. Then they would burst through the door and start shooting.

So he focused on the door, like everyone else. Because they had to start shooting when that happened, too. Shoot more and shoot faster. Shoot like their lives depended on it. Light that whole doorway up so nothing could get through to kill them all…

Caros suddenly lolled his head back, face blistered and red but otherwise stoned out of his gourd. He blinked at the ceiling a bit, right in front of Tamish.

"Is it the British?" He slurred, curiously.

That just made Tamish even more anxious. The rest of them, too. They all tensed, waiting to fire the split second…

An odd thing happened then, which none of them noticed right away, being so focused on the door and the horrible, terrible thing about to happen there.

Caros R'Lon had grown up poor and like so many poor native Risians, his family couldn't afford the more sophisticated _ja'risia_. Not the kind that bonded to the skin of your forehead, with that symbiotic biomechanical bond. He had the much more affordable version of that. Still a _ja'risia_, still composed of the proper metallic materials and with the precise inscribed symbolic design.

But it was just glued on there. So it came off sometimes, now and again. Not very often, but often enough. Certainly when dunked repeatedly into a pile of burning Pink.

His _ja'risia _fell off. Came lose, hanging for just a moment…before gravity finally had its way with it and it fell, plopping unnoticed onto his chest, sliding down to fall and impact his knee and go spinning off in the rough direction of the door. Spinning off to land almost precisely between the table and the door to the hallway…

With a sharp 'ting' that practically rang out in all the heavy silence going on…

_*ting*_

Everyone started shooting.

* * *

Loya was waiting outside the door, just a meter away to the right across from Malcolm, who waited just a meter away to the left. They waited because, if everything was going according to plan in there, the men in the room would be focused on the door by then, waiting for them to burst in and start shooting.

They were waiting for the _fal-menya _to noisily kick off again down the street, because if the men hadn't figured it out yet, then they certainly would then. That the noise would cover their own attack, so that would bring tensions to a nice peak in there.

Then T'Pol would poke her head out from where she perched on the balcony, shoot a two or three of them in the back and get their attention. Then take cover again immediately so that she and Malcolm actually _could _kick in the door and attack whoever was left. With Trip then kicking in _his _door a second or two later to shoot anyone else that was still standing.

Which there probably wouldn't be by then. Because all of that would have the guys spinning around every which way.

So she was a little surprised when the men in the room started blasting the door all of a sudden. And they kept on blasting it until bits and pieces were flying off, smoking and burning, with nice big holes in it.

That went on for nearly three seconds, at which point she leaned forward a bit to catch Malcolm's eye, with a questioning look on her face.

He just shrugged and gave her a look. So he didn't know what those guys were trying to do either.

The shooting eventually stopped and there wasn't much left of the doorway anymore, other than a few pieces stubbornly hanging on smoking around the edges. So the doorway was practically open for them, which was nice. And the men in the room were focused on the door still, with tensions peaked perfectly in there.

T'Pol didn't bother waiting for the _fal-menya _to kick off, apparently, because they heard her open fire in there right away.

* * *

Tamish heard the professional badasses in the hallway firing back at them. He even saw Benti and Sharel go down to either side of him.

He just didn't _see _the professional badasses in the hallway shooting back at them. It was like they were shooting through the walls somehow and the beams of their weapons were completely invisible in some way.

He honestly assumed that must be the case at first, as much as the thought terrified him…

_Then _he realized someone was shooting them from _behind_. Someone out on the balcony.

They were just ducking out of sight when he spun about to find them, aim at them and shoot them back. By then Siles had gone down too, so only he and Kava were left.

He aimed his plasma pistol at the balcony…and his aim trembled. Because he just _knew _he was going to die…

Then he heard movement _behind _him and spun _back _around…to see nothing at first. He could hear the sizzle of a beam weapon of some kind being fired at them and he saw Kava convulse, gurgle and go down…

But he didn't see the Orion, way down there close to the floor where she was, firing into the room. She was leaning out, maybe only a quarter meter off the floor somehow, and she'd walked a particle beam right up Kava, from his knees right up to his chest, before disappearing back out of sight.

He barely had time to stand up a bit from where he was crouching behind Caros to aim _down _there…then she was gone…

Neither of them had even had time to shoot back.

And then the British…

He popped out then, out of nowhere, up high now where Tamish _wasn't _aiming any more…

That was it. Tamish had enough. He ducked right back down again, hiding behind Caros.

Plasma bolts flew all over the place from the doorway. Flying overhead, to either side, one or two down by his ankles. A few things exploded here and there…

Then a quick moment of silence. And Tamish knew then that whatever terrible thing was going to happen next would happen in only a second or two at most. Maybe not even _that _long.

So he ran.

He panicked and ran, wailing in terror. Ran to the bathroom where whatever friendly and helpful…and especially _non-threatening_…person who had been kind enough to whisper a warning was hopefully still waiting to not shoot and kill him. Maybe he could even take them hostage…

They even opened the door for him, like they knew he was coming…so he could run and escape…

But…wait…

* * *

Trip knew there wasn't any point trying to expect anything when he opened the door to lean out and take a few potshots. There was no predicting what would be going on in there. If everything went according to plan, the guys would be panicking and firing wildly all over the place. Who knows what they'd be doing or where they'd be in the room.

His role here was mainly just to add another layer of chaos to things. If he managed to actually hit someone, that would be great. It wasn't really necessary, though.

That one guy, stumbling around wailing and trying to get to the door he'd just opened…

Not exactly expected.

But, okay.

He tossed off a quick shot, hit him and dropped him before he could even get halfway there.

And truth be told, he was happy to. This was really the reason he'd lingered at the truck, back at the thoroughfare, to find just the right weapon. It was why he'd dug around in there until he'd found a phase pistol.

Never mind that it was the Starfleet weapon of choice and the one he was most familiar with, phase pistols were Human designed and so they typically had a stun setting.

Sure, he was Starfleet. Or, okay, _ex-Starfleet_. But he still wasn't a big fan of burning holes in people. He'd much rather stun them if he could get away with that.

So he'd kinda hoped he did get a chance to shoot somebody. Because that'd mean he'd spare that one from having a bolt of plasma explode somewhere on their body when either Malcolm or Loya shot them.

He was happy to oblige then. And it made him feel a whole lot better about things, shooting that guy.

Once he looked around a bit, peeking around the edge of the doorway to be sure everyone was down and out in there…he gave T'Pol the 'all clear' nudge and she joined him in the room. Then he called everyone else in and they went right to work tying up the four guys that he and T'Pol had stunned.

The one Loya had shot…that guy was pretty dead. So they just left him where he was.

Caros was very helpful and forthcoming, answering all their questions. But he was also pretty wasted on all the powder he'd inhaled, so they had to repeat a few of the questions more than once.

Not much there that they hadn't figured out on their own. Caros had seen them get into a big brawl at the Pink Cloud, seen Malcolm take out a couple dozen guys on his own, saw an opportunity to make some credits and had jumped at it.

Led them all to the Iron Pit, fronted the entrance fee for Malcolm and took a cut of the winnings. And took a few bruises from the Orions when they didn't throw the fight and ran off instead, until the Orions figured they'd still made every bit of the profit they'd expected by just seizing all Malcolm's winnings and they let him go.

Then all _this _happened.

That was pretty much all he had to offer. Except that Travis had snatched one of the Orion guy's jackets by mistake on the way out the door, decided he liked the colors and kept it. And they found the invitation in the pocket, recognized Du'kar's name and decided it would be a fantastic idea to attend.

And, yes, T'Pol still had her Vulcan Guard jacket at the time.

T'Pol found all of that very helpful and was very appreciative. Enough that she allowed Hoshi and Trip to fetch a first aid kit from the bathroom, untie him from the chair and tend to him a bit. While she, Malcolm and Travis tossed the unconscious men off the balcony. And the dead guy.

So Caros wouldn't have to bother with that portion of the clean up.

They even got Travis's jacket back, since Caros had taken it, hoping they'd come looking for it and he'd have a chance to try to talk the British into fighting again.

All in all…not a bad day they were having so far.


	13. Chapter 13

**Du'kar Compound  
****Nuvia City, Risa  
****2400 hours**

It was one heck of a good time they were having. That idea Travis had of crashing the party and showing their client how amazing they would be in social situations…how sophisticated and refined and culturally adaptable…that had been the best idea ever!

The invitation got them all in the door and Boskin had been surprised, even delighted to find them there.

A little irritable for a while once he figured out they'd used someone else's invitation to get in the door…but that passed once Trip and Travis turned on the charm a bit. That was really their job, after all.

Malcolm and Loya mostly shot people. Hoshi interpreted and provided cultural insights. T'Pol…was T'Pol.

Travis flew the ship and he kept it running, but both of them usually worked together to keep people comfortable until business was successfully concluded.

Or Malcolm and Loya shot them. Whichever.

By the time they were done, Boskin had even introduced them to a few people and T'Pol had taken the opportunity to catch a few names. People she could make a professional pass at later. New contacts and potential clients, that sort of thing.

They got to see an actual Orion wedding reception, too. Even if it was kind of a weird amalgam of Orion, native Risian and even a little Human. A sort of cultural mishmash going on here. The Orions were pretty culturally adaptable too, it turns out. And it made sense from a business perspective, since they were on based here on Risa. Orions were all about the business, after all.

Loya found a nice wedding ring somewhere and Trip had been concerned at first, since she might have somehow got that off the bride or the groom…it _was _a wedding reception here, of course. Turns out not, but he didn't get the chance to find out where she got it from...

Because he had the most amazing idea ever! He'd teach Loya all about Human customs when it came to that kinda thing. Human marriage and weddings and things like that. Maybe she'd like the idea and pick up on it…maybe even marry Malcolm!

That'd be great! What a great idea he was having! He could play matchmaker here…or kinda…they were sort of _already _matched but…if they got married, because of him? That'd be great!

It took a bit of work to get a few concepts across. And she balked at the idea of only having one man…ever…that she couldn't even trade in for another, better one later on.

She didn't like _that _part so much, not one little bit.

But the other half of that…how she wouldn't have to worry about Malcolm wandering off. She'd liked that part a lot. Worse case scenario being that he might fool around a little here and there maybe, and even then she could just kill whoever he screwed around on her with.

So, yeah. She really liked the idea. Wanted to talk about that some more later, when they had the time. So he held on to the ring for her when she asked him to, in case she needed that later.

They stayed around, chatting everyone up. Made a few new friends, experienced some new culture, learned what an Orion 'love song' was.

That's when the matriarch decided somebody needed to be made an example of. So she seduced him, got him in the sack, screwed his brains out and pheromoned him to bits. Got him so tanked up on that stuff that killing himself in some insanely dramatic, extremely painful and very, very messy manner seemed like just the perfect, most impossibly romantic way to profess his immortal love for you.

That had happened to Okrish's friend, Tomec, a couple of weeks ago. The guy had stood right over there, where that stain on the floor was. Skinned himself alive with a dull knife until he passed out and bleed to death, just because Boskin's wife decided he might be skimming off the top.

Trip had to admit, that was probably a pretty effective deterrent. He'd heard the Yakuza back on Earth would have you cut off a finger if you screwed up, so he mentioned that. The Orions thought that was just hilarious.

He drank a lot of wine, though. Not so much that he got drunk or anything, since he was technically in charge of schmoozing people around here. But enough to be sociable and enough, more to the point, that he had to go find a bathroom.

He couldn't find one at first, so he figured that might be one of those cultural things. Maybe Orion bathrooms didn't look like bathrooms, so he hadn't recognized it wandering around looking for it.

T'Pol must have picked up on his distress or something, because she popped up all of a sudden, abandoning all the fun she was having making new contacts to come help him.

It was a big house. They got a little lost. But they managed to find the main bedroom of the place, so of course it had its own little bathroom attached. Pretty standard stuff in there. It even flushed about the way you'd expect it to.

Everything in there was made of gold or colored marble, though. Lots of mirrors too, on just about every surface that would support one…which was a little weird.

T'Pol waited in the bedroom outside for him to get finished, to go and rejoin the party with him.

And when he did and he came back out again…

She was just staring at the chair there by the door. Which was weird, too. So he figured he'd better remind her…

"Okay, let's go have some fun!" He said brightly. Because that'd snap her out of it and…well, then they'd go have some fun!

She didn't seem to snap out of it, though. She just looked over at him, with a curious eyebrow…

"What?" He asked.

"I have had a very intriguing idea." T'Pol said, evenly. "I think I will do it."

That gave him cause to pause. They'd all been having ideas all day, every one of them. Really great ideas that caused a whole lot of trouble and were fun and exciting…

So, great! That sounded just great!

"Okay!" He said, brightly. "What?"

"Sit there." She said, pointing at the chair.

So he went right on over and did that. Smiling up at her where she stood over him. Waiting for the great idea they were having here to present itself.

She considered him for a moment, looking down at him.

"There are rules." She said.

"Okay." Trip grinned.

"You must keep your hands on the armrests of the chair." She said. "You are not allowed to raise them from there. If you do…"

She paused.

"Raise one hand, so that I may demonstrate."

He raised a hand up eagerly, completely onboard with whatever she was…

She smacked the living hell out of his hand. Really hard, without even hauling back to do it. Just reaching out and swatting at it like probably only a Vulcan could do…

"Ow!" He said, unhappily. "What was that for?"

"To demonstrate." She explained. "That is what will happen…"

"Okay, jeez! That hurt!"

"Then do not raise your hands from the armrests."

"Okay, I won't." He groused, frowning.

"Additionally, you are not allowed to speak." She continued. "If you do…"

She paused again.

"Speak now, so that I may demonstrate."

Trip frowned. Because no, he wasn't going to do that. He'd learned his lesson already.

"No way." He said, firmly.

She smacked him on top of the head. Just a rough little pat on the head…but she _was _Vulcan. So it _hurt._

"Ow! Damn, T'Pol…!"

She smacked him again, giving him the eyebrow now.

"I just…!"

Smack. The eyebrow a little higher.

"Okay!"

Smack. Again.

He grit his teeth and shut up. And snatched the hand that had wandered away from the armrest in protest right back down there before she noticed it.

She eyed him narrowly for a moment, ready to detect any further deviation from the established rules.

Then nodded.

"Continue in this manner until I release you." She said.

And she turned around, putting her back to him like she forgot he was there already. Reaching up to shrug her jacket off her shoulders…and suddenly stopping there. With her jacket just off her shoulders, resting on her arms still, with her back to him.

Shoulders exposed and the sleeveless shirt she wore underneath just putting them right out there…

Which…okay, so?

She looked back over one of those shoulders at him then. Looking him right in the eye. Kind of…well, he'd call it _sultry _but…T'Pol wasn't exactly the sultry sort…

She let that Vulcan Guard jacket…the very symbol of the extremely rigid, perfectly precise Vulcan ex-military officer that was T'Pol…slide slowly down her arms, until it fell in a puddle on the floor at her feet.

And that was the sexiest damned thing he'd ever seen in his whole entire life.

He actually breathed out audibly, taking the first steps in verbally communicating that fact. But then he remembered the rules here. So he just let himself huff appreciatively and left it at that.

Then she kind of glided into a turn, until she was sideways to him, looking down at him over one of those very nice shoulders he suddenly had a lot more appreciation for. Using every inch of her body to emphasize every single aspect of that turn.

All the way on around, taking his breath away more and more…until she was finally facing him again.

And, yeah. Breathless here. Panting just a bit.

Because, damn. Where was all _this _coming from?

And where could he buy tickets to go visit that place? Sound like a great place to vacation. To hell with Risa.

She held her hands out to touch his face…and he suddenly remembered the neuropressure exercises during all those really great mating rituals they'd done for all those months.

He really missed those, actually. They hadn't done anything like that since the bond happened. In fact…they hadn't really done much of _anything _since the bond.

He'd started kinda wondering what was the point of the thing if all the fun stuff was just what led _up _to it. Hardly felt like there were dating anymore since then…which…well, probably because they were technically _married _now…

So, yeah. He was real eager to do that neuropressure thing again. That was a great idea!

What a great idea T'Pol had here!

It's just…she _didn't _touch his face. Or any of the nodes on his neck or shoulders. Or any of the other place her hands were hovering around, just shy of actually touching.

She was looking him right in the eye, though. And that…was…

God, she was beautiful. He could stare at her for _hours_…except her hands were really getting distracting.

Because she wasn't actually touching him. Just…a _hair _from touching him. And every nerve in his body was starting to really get on board with the idea of doing that touching thing. Linking up with her nervous system, using the bond to mix things up a bit.

That was incredibly intimate. Indescribably intimate. And he really missed it.

Her hands flowed gracefully…and very, very slowly…along his neck and shoulders, back around again up to his face…really slowly…and his whole body was starting to _thrum _from all that…

He could _feel _her almost touching him. Hyper-aware now…his nervous system and his own mind reaching out desperately, beyond their mere physical reach…

And…wow.

He was really starting to get a little desperately turned on here, to be perfectly honest.

She kept just barely brushing a hair here and there. On his arms, when she let her hands flow around up and down the length of them. Just a bare, almost undetectable brush at the jaw or catching a stray hair on his chest…

Never any actual connection that their minds could bridge the gap across, though. Almost but not quite ever actually connecting.

It was maddening.

And amazing.

He could feel…whatever that was that linked their minds together when they touched…almost _feel _it extending out into the air, trying desperately to connect…

And…it did a little. He could sense things, in a vague kind of way. Or maybe he was just imagining, as it had grown just that desperate.

He got smacked a couple of times, when one hand or the other floated up of its own accord. And even that he didn't mind. Because there was the very brief moment of _almost _connecting when she smacked his hand…

Something nudged him. And he looked up again, right into her eyes…

Her eyes were on _fire_.

He knew right then. Before she even touched him, he knew. And when she finally did, letting her hands brush against his hair on the way down…sliding perfectly into place against the contact points on his face…

Oh, yeah. He knew.

And his hands were already up, sliding right into place themselves.

Completely against the rules, of course. But _she _broke that rule first, because that game was already over.

She was there, he could feel her perfectly. She was stoked, ready to be lit. That one touch, that one brief connection being all that was required to set them both ablaze.

There was a bed right there, not a step and a half behind her. And she'd been putting this off for a while now, he knew then, worried about what it would do to their bond. Worried that he wouldn't be ready for that. That he might withdraw and pull _against _the bond that would bind them all the more tightly to one another then...

But she'd had an amazing idea tonight. An idea how to make her Human mate a little more comfortable with things, by illustrating one particular benefit that bond offered.

Best. Idea. Ever.

After about thirty minutes or so, they were laying there panting. Completely buck naked, every nerve in their bodies having just exploded all over the place…and a few other explosions having gone on no less dramatic than that…

Took a minute before he could speak, though.

"Vulcan…lap dance, huh?" He panted, grinning.

"Yes." She breathed, heavily. Her face at his neck, body just collapsed all over him. "That was…very intense."

He chuckled.

Yeah. Understatement.

"My turn…next time." He panted.

"That would be…agreeable." She said. Agreeably.

The sounds happening outside the door, though…and the sounds happening _in the doorway…_

They had to pay attention to that after a minute. Because, yeah, they had gotten pretty loud there at the end a few times.

Boskin Du'kar was very understanding, of course. Finding them laid out, buck naked in his bed that way…having mussed the sheets and all.

Very understanding. He hadn't had them set on fire in the middle of the dining hall or anything, like he otherwise would have.

Had to kick them all out, though. Get them dressed, get them out of there and kicked them the hell off his property. Before his wife found out what happened, because people would be singing Orion love songs all night around here and no one would get any sleep and there'd be such a mess to clean up…

He was a pretty understanding guy, that Boskin. Trip decided he kinda liked him and hoped he never had to get set on fire by him.

He had to grab T'Pol and kinda drag her out of there, though. Because she'd been so sexed out of her mind that she got dressed in the wrong order. Had her shirt inside out and forgot to put her underwear back on. And she wanted to argue with Boskin about being given another minute to put all that right before stepping back out of the room again. Because that'd be inappropriate.

He barely managed to convince her to just switch her shirt inside out in the hallway real quick. And just shove her underwear in her jacket pocket for now.

Because singing Orion love songs and being set on fire…that didn't seem like any kind of fun.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Silken Path  
****Nuvia City, Risa**

Sticking around the Lover's Rest to call the client and touch base with him would of course have been a very bad idea. It was rather a no brainer that when you got into shootouts and threw people off balconies that you didn't then stick around and make comm calls. What you did, instead of anything like that, is got the hell out of there before the authorities showed up.

So Trip was just finished loading up the truck with Malcolm, slamming the rear door shut and turning away to make his way around to climb in himself. Along with everyone else, who'd been waiting for them to finish that so they could load up and get out of there too. Drive away, off somewhere decidedly not here, so that T'Pol could make that call.

Make the call, get things back on track. At least make the exchange, if nothing else. Have _that _much done before things got any weirder than they already were.

He was thinking about Du'kar then of course, and thinking about that great big fancy house the guy lived in.

And then realizing he'd never been to that house so how did he know that?

Except that he had of course, he just didn't remember it.

Except that he apparently _did _remember it since he had an opinion about it…

And so his mind naturally made another dutiful pass at finding those memories it had locked away somewhere, having forgotten where exactly it had put them, in order to try to make some sense out of all that for him. Surprisingly…stumbling right across those memories. And having done that, eagerly presenting them to him straight away.

Hence Trip staggering to a stop right in the middle of the alleyway.

Mind rather profoundly blown by what he'd suddenly almost remembered.

Almost remembered. Not quite and not to any degree of clarity at all. The general idea was there, sort of a summary of things. The highlights, so to speak, and the overall point of the matter…

That being that he and T'Pol had apparently gotten their freak on in Du'kar's bedroom. On the man's bed, in point of fact.

And there were some very provocative images associated with that general idea, to sort of illustrate that very important point. Some sensory impressions, general emotional reactions…that sort of thing. Such as how her neck tasted a little like cinnamon when she got really hot and how absolutely amazing that was. That sort of thing.

A billion little things like that were suddenly running hog wild through his mind at the moment, all of them competing for his attention to try to get him to bring them into focus. So that he could fully appreciate them.

So he didn't notice T'Pol staring at him for a few seconds.

And the moment he did…

"What?" T'Pol demanded.

That got everyone else's attention. Not that they both didn't have that already. Having come to an abrupt halt, rather than getting into the truck like everyone was so keen on doing, that was enough to get everyone else to stop and be a little curious about what was going on.

Trip…had no idea what he was supposed to do here. He couldn't exactly answer the question in any kind of satisfactory way while everyone was standing there. T'Pol would absolutely freak out if he so much as _hinted _at what he'd just remembered. Out loud, where people could hear that.

Absolutely freak out. In the sense that she'd go so cold and hard that it'd probably take her a month to thaw out. Trip knew, right down in his bones, that this topic was so completely not open for public discussion that even the topic of whether it was open for discussion was, itself, not open for discussion. Any and all matters even tangentially related to the general topic weren't even open for public discussion.

You just plain did _not _talk about things like that where other people could hear. It was as simple as that.

So, no. He wasn't about to answer that question.

But he'd learned a few things in the last twenty-four hours that he hadn't known before. Things he now realized T'Pol should have already told him about, should have _taught _him about. Quite a few of those things learned on the fly in Du'kar's bedroom, and so things that he now remembered.

Sort of remembered.

One in particular, that might be helpful right now.

"You remembered something." T'Pol said, prompting him. "Something profound. What was it?"

Everyone was watching. Malcolm, Travis, Hoshi, Loya…all of them watching. All very eager to learn what he'd remembered.

But he'd remembered picking up on a few things last night, though.

Like how that 'nudge' thing they were suddenly doing so well recently…not just calling each other from one part of the ship to the other anymore, but now actually sending general impressions and information and whatnot…how that was _nothing _compared to what they could do with actual physical contact.

So he just stared back at her, letting his face remain perfectly blank and calm now, sending a little nudge to let her know to tread very carefully here…

And presented his hand to her. Two fingers extended and rigidly locked. The _ozh'esta_, the Vulcan kiss, which he shouldn't know about yet because she hadn't introduced him to that yet. Except that she had, last night. And he shouldn't know that you could use that to communicate, if you wanted to do so in a really, _really _intimate manner…even if you happened to be in public. Except that he _did _know that. Because they had, last night. All over the place.

T'Pol twitched a little at seeing that. Recognizing all the implications the instant he made the gesture.

And she was a real smart lady, no one could ever deny that. So she put two and two together and had the whole general idea in about two seconds. He could see that in her eyes easily enough, never mind the wave of shocked realization that suddenly flowed across their bond…before she viciously wrangled it and suppressed the heck out of it.

But once she was ready…she reached out her hand to kiss him, with that particularly Vulcan kiss. Letting the comfort inherent in that contact flow through them both before zeroing in on the memories he offered for examination.

It only took her a few more seconds to work through all of it, hitting all the highlights as she went through it all. Categorizing and proper labeling everything, making a nice long list of things in order of their relevance and importance so that they could all be addressed…at the appropriate time.

Then tucking it all away and locking it up tight until it could be reviewed _then_. Rather than now, standing in a dirty alleyway where the rest of the crew was looking on so curiously.

And then she broke contact.

"I see." She said, stiffly. "We will discuss that later."

"Right." Trip agreed quickly. "Sure. No problem."

She hesitated. Then…

"Discuss it in _detail_." She added, making that point firmly.

So…whatever else could be said about him, he _was _Trip. He was who he was and he knew quite well that T'Pol appreciated certain things about him that she'd never in a billion years _admit _to appreciating about him…

So he smirked at her. Pretty brazenly and suggestively.

"Count on it, darlin'." He said, huskily. Smirking.

With a light, warm little nudge thrown in there on top of that, designed and intended to make her stomach flutter a little.

Which it did.

So she promptly wheeled about and started heading right back over to the truck before he could do anything worse than that right here where people were being curious…

* * *

They drove halfway across the city to the public park there. Came to a stop and piled out to gather at the rear of the truck, out of the way of passersby. And there made the call to assess their current standing with Du'kar and whether the exchange they'd come to Risa to make in the first place was still as solid as it had been before.

It took a while before anyone answered and that was T'Pol's first clue that things had taken a turn for the worse. Du'kar's communications suite was certainly sophisticated enough, and those that he employed to monitor that well trained enough, that her identity could be expected to have been established almost immediately. So the delay suggested hasty preparations were being made.

Boskin eventually answered, and he smiled warmly when he saw her on the other end.

"T'Pol, I'm glad you called." He smiled.

So, yes. The situation had destabilized somewhat overnight. Not entirely unexpected but discouraging nevertheless.

"Du'kar." She nodded properly. "I hope I haven't disturbed you. I'm only checking in to be sure there are no last minute changes to the particulars of our transaction later today. As a courtesy."

"That's greatly appreciated, T'Pol." Du'kar soothed. "And, as I said, I'm glad you called. Something has come up after all, so I'm afraid I'll have to postpone yet again."

"That is very unfortunate." T'Pol said.

"I could of course arrange for Palos to make the exchange…but I assume that you would prefer to deal only with me. That, yes unfortunately, will not be possible today."

"Palos would be able to participate in your stead?" T'Pol questioned, with just the appropriate measure of curious interest. "With your authority, that is?"

"Absolutely. Our agreement is already in place and everything is prepared…but are you certain you would be comfortable with that? I know you don't care for that sort of thing and I can't say I blame you…"

"No, that will be quite sufficient." T'Pol assured. "If he has your trust and can act on your authority, then I am prepared to extend my trust and recognize that authority as well. After the…discomforts we've visited on you recently, concluding our business quickly and comfortably seems the least we can do."

"Oh, think nothing of that." Boskin smiled, waving that away as meaningless. "We're all friends here and I can overlook a little…discomfort. Consider that matter already forgotten. But I do appreciate you putting forth the extra effort here, T'Pol. I find your reputation, at least in matters of business, is well deserved so far."

"I measure my success by my client's satisfaction, of course." T'Pol nodded. "Thirteen hundred hours, at the docks? As previously agreed?"

"Ah." Boskin frowned, immediately. "I see I wasn't clear. Entirely my own failing, of course. I assumed you were aware…but, of course, how could you be? Please forgive my oversight. No, I'm afraid Palos won't be able to meet you there. A little…overreaction to a perfectly minor disagreement with dock security officials…you understand, I'm sure. Would you mind the Sunset Gardens? I understand you have a cargo vehicle aboard your ship that can transport the merchandise there? Palos could oversee the exchange personally and conclude our business on site."

T'Pol nodded, agreeably.

"That would be acceptable. If you will allow an additional hour, so that we can make the necessary preparations?"

"Most certainly." Boskin smiled. "I'll see to the final arrangements myself. "

"Very well. Good day to you, Du'kar, and continued health to your family."

"And to you and yours, T'Pol."

T'Pol nodded, tapped the data unit and ended the call.

And verbalized then what everyone else overhearing the conversation already knew.

"I believe Boskin intends to take action against us." She said, curiously.

Loya frowned. "Not to kill. He would already be doing that."

"He wants to take us in hand." Malcolm nodded. "Sunset Gardens is technically public…but it's the sort of place you can snatch a few people up without drawing a lot of attention."

"Right, he wants us alive." Trip said, frowning. "Or at least most of us. Maybe just you, T'Pol. And if that's what he wants, then he wants information."

Hoshi was looking back and forth between everyone, already having gotten the gist of it but just now fully catching up to things.

"Well…what do we know?" She asked. "That _he _wants to know, I mean."

"The most obvious and likely answer to that," T'Pol said. "Would be the trade certificates. He is aware of them somehow and intends to secure them for himself."

"So how'd he find out about that?" Trip wondered. "You think we were running our mouths all over town about it last night? I can't figure any other way he could know."

"I find our behavior last night may not render that quite as unthinkable as it would normally be." T'Pol said, regretfully.

"Trouble." Loya said, reminding everyone. "I _said _the certificates was big trouble."

The troubling and unfortunate turn of events had been recognized, verbalized and acknowledged. So the crew waited patiently for their captain to decide what to do about that.

She considered the matter carefully before coming to a decision.

"We will make the exchange." She said.

And she waited for the inevitable questioning of her authority.

"Captain," Travis said, frowning. "If you don't mind me saying…"

"Du'kar is a rare and very profitable contact." T'Pol explained. "One best kept, if at all possible. So we will extend him this courtesy, making the exchange and responding appropriately to the attempt to abduct us."

"That's…one heck of a courtesy we're extending, T'Pol." Trip pointed out, concerned.

"It is." She acknowledged. "But as I've said, he is a contact we cannot afford to let slip away. Better that we remain true to the agreements already in place, doing precisely as we have agreed to do. We will allow him to break trust instead, which will have the added benefit of granting us a superior bargaining position immediately thereafter."

"Assuming we don't all get killed." Loya grumped.

"We will of course takes steps to minimize that possibility." T'Pol assured.

She turned and stepped over to the rear of the truck, opening the door wide once she was there. Reaching in to grab and drag the half-naked Risian bound and gagged in the back, until she had him pulled up, out and sitting on the rear bumper. Still bound with his hands behind his back. Still gagged. And quite obviously concerned.

She folded her hands comfortably at her back and watched the man, until she was sure he'd blinked enough to adjust to the sunlight. And adjusted himself enough to the situation that he would not draw undo attention to himself once the gag was removed.

At least, no more attention that a half-naked Risian bound and gagged on the side of the street was likely to draw attention in Nuvia city.

She nodded to Malcolm then and he removed the gag.

The man didn't make a fuss. He just waited, glancing and jerking his paranoia at every subtle move he perceived.

"J'Mar," T'Pol said. "I trust you've had time to realize and embrace your good fortune. You've suffered little more than bruises from having been thrown from the balcony. And all the more, the people who have taken you captive have yet to kill you, despite having many good reasons to do so. The most compelling reason being to take the opportunity to kill you in a particularly horrific and creative manner, in order to send a specific message to your employer."

J'Mar just blinked nervously at that.

"You do realize your good fortune, do you not?" T'Pol pressed.

J'Mar…hesitated. But soon enough decided to take his chances.

"I guess…"

"_Shaddap!" _Trip snapped, snarling.

So J'Mar shaddaped.

"I have a proposition for you." T'Pol said. "You will deliver a message to your boss for me. In exchange for this service, I will have the British beat you until you require extensive facial reconstructive surgery the next time we meet. Rather than burying you to your neck in the sand at the edge of the ocean at low tide and leaving you there. So that you slowly drown over the course of the following six hours when the tide comes in again, as I would find more preferable. Would you happen to find yourself interested in making such an arrangement?"

J'Mar blinked nervously a bit more at that.

"You are free to refuse, of course. But I understand the tide goes out in approximately one hour…"

"Okay, yeah. Sure, I can…"

Malcolm smacked him one upside the head.

"Tripper said to shut it." He growled.

"Very good." T'Pol said, as if none of that had just occurred. "Inform your boss that we are willing to make a deal concerning the trade certificates. As is customary in such situations, we will return half the certificates as a gesture of good faith and retain the remainder ourselves. It is also customary to negotiate on that point, I realize, but circumstances simply do not allow for that, so I'm afraid I must stand firm. Deliver that message to him and inform him that we will be available to make the exchange at fourteen hundred hours today, at Sunset Gardens."


	15. Chapter 15

**The Morning Rise Marina  
****Nuvia City, Risa**

The Marina seemed to be little more than a collection of shops and eateries scattered down the length of the beach, separated from white sands and clear blue waters by a long railing one could lean comfortably on to view the ocean.

It was beautiful, of course. Very comfortable and the sort of place you could easily just lounge around at, shop a bit, swim a bit, eat a little something. Just sit and soak in how marvelous everything looked and what a wonderful place it was.

Lots of very interesting people wandered about on both sides of the rail. Sunbathers and swimmers on the one side, shoppers and browsers all along the other. Tables distributed evenly down the walkway, available to provide rest and a nice, convenient place to satisfy oneself with the purchases made, to enjoy the sun or simply enjoy the company of those you'd come there with to experience those things. Or the people readily available to be picked up in order to experience those things with, of which there were very many.

They'd had to stop and chase them off occasionally while they ate. And even now, after having eaten and just sitting there talking. Very obviously talking and not requiring these people to keep popping up insinuating themselves into the conversation, thank you very much.

Companions, employed by the Risian Hedony to provide exactly that service; being available for companionship. Visitors _not _having any occasion to find themselves alone and lonely on Risa of all places being something the Hedony had recognized as very good for business a long time ago.

It was starting to get a little damned irritating, though.

"Yes, thanks." Trip said, glaring. "We're fine. Have a nice day."

The very attractive…and very shirtless young Risian man who must work out pretty religiously, with his hand so casually resting on the back of T'Pol's chair…yeah, that guy was getting on Trip's nerves something fierce.

"Well, if there's _anything _you require…please do let me know." The guy smiled warmly.

At T'Pol, not him. Because he apparently failed to notice him sitting right there making it clear it was ten seconds past time for him to go the hell away.

"Yes, thank you." T'Pol nodded, politely. And the guy moved comfortably on to find someone else to bother. Making sure to let his hand brush her shoulder a bit as he moved on, of course. To emphasize the 'anything' part of that, presumably.

Trip's legs got a little jumpy for a second, anticipating the signal from his brain that it was time to get up and go smack that guy around a bit. But he managed not to do that after a moment.

"Just so you know," Trip said, frowning. "I'm beating the hell out of the next guy that does that, T'Pol."

"I appreciate the gesture, Trip, but we have business to discuss here. It would not be convenient…"

"Kinda hard to discuss business with all _that _crap going on."

"We require a public venue at the moment." She insisted. "So we will suffer the occasional interruption in the interests of that. And you are aware, of course, that provoking jealousy in one's partner is merely part of the service these 'companions' provide. Not to mention, they likely find us intriguing. A Vulcan and a Human. I'm sure they are mostly just curious."

He would have snapped something back at that. Something along the lines of how he'd like to educated them on that point by beating the hell out of somebody about it. But T'Pol suddenly wasn't looking at him anymore. She was staring intently…and rather hostilely…at something over his shoulder.

Suddenly having decided that twirling a fork around her fingers right on top of the table was a good idea.

T'Pol didn't usually display any nervous little habits like that, because she didn't really have any nervous little habits to begin with. So that was intentional.

He didn't have to look over his shoulder, though. He already knew. So he just relaxed back in his chair and smirked. Waiting until the lovely, bronze-skinned young lady in the very revealing bathing suit altered her course and strolled right on past the shoulder of the handsome blond Human she'd targeted a second ago, off to find a _less _dangerous target.

He smirked when T'Pol met his eyes again.

She gave an eyebrow. Just a little bit.

"It is, however, something of a distraction." She admitted.

"At least you didn't threaten to bury her up to her neck down on the beach." Trip smirked. "Which…by the way, that was a little scary."

"Entirely the intent." She said. "I would not have done such a barbaric thing, of course. At worst, I would have simply shot him and only if that were required."

"Still pretty scary. And it sort of suggests a whole new side of you I maybe haven't fully appreciated until now."

T'Pol propped an eyebrow up then.

"A side you find intriguing?"

"Maybe a little." He shrugged. "Can't say I want you drowning people down at the beach but it _was _interesting to see. And I get how scaring him silly was probably logical and all right then."

"Of course." She said. "And while we're on the subject, you seemed to adjust to your role as 'the Tripper' easily enough. 'Shaddap' being an especially interesting choice of vernacular."

"Oh, come on. You've got to admit it was a little funny."

"Perhaps." She admitted. "But it would best if we not avail ourselves of those particular personas in _this _venue."

In other words, Trip reasoned, please don't assault the companions and draw attention to us. So, yeah, okay then.

"Maybe we should have gone to an indoor restaurant." Trip suggested.

"Loya required more appropriate clothing and there are shops available here. And the crew have interpersonal matters that they need to address."

Well, now, that was suddenly a little interesting. T'Pol almost never openly recognized either of the relationships that had been going on right under her nose all this time. That wouldn't be appropriate to acknowledge, of course. Curious that she did so now.

And it opened up a few topics for discussion all of a sudden, in fact. Which, upon further reflection, he realized had probably been her intent.

"So let's talk about us." Trip said, diving right in.

T'Pol was of course quite ready for that.

"Concerning those matters we will discuss in detail, in private, later." She said. "They will be discussed in detail. In private. Later."

He held up one hand, acknowledging that right away.

"Understood." He assured. "Looking forward to it. But that kinda calls attention to a few things, T'Pol. Like how we're bonded now and it suddenly seems like we're not even dating anymore. We've been all business since we figured out we were bonded. That kinda has me wondering…what's the point of all this? I don't know what I expected, but I'm pretty sure this isn't it. Kinda feel like I'm missing something here."

T'Pol allowed a moment for that to fall between them, then folded her hands in her lap and began the process of adjusting their relationship to the unscheduled and entirely too rapid progression of things that had apparently occurred.

"Trip," She said. "I am largely responsible for that. Recall that I have never actually been bonded before either. This is, in many ways, as new to me as it is to you. And as you know, I tend to be overcautious when confronted with unfamiliarity."

Trip nodded. "That's fine and I understand that. That's why I haven't really made a fuss until now. But after what happened…the thing we're not going to discuss until later…it just kinda puts things into perspective. And not only that, I get a real sense of how that _changes _things now. Or, at least, that it _should _change things."

"Yes." She admitted. "And I am…unprepared for that."

Trip nodded easily.

"Okay." He said, "I'm not making any demands here, T'Pol. Or…maybe I am, actually. I think I am going to have to insist we're clear on what we're going to have here. I was under the impression that by the time the bond formed, we'd have at least have an _intimate _relationship. That's how the bond happens. But then, having reached that point…a romantic relationship."

"You mean, a sexual relationship."

"Not necessarily." Trip corrected, quickly. "Yes, that, sure. Of course. But I read those letters too, T'Pol. The ones all the other versions of us wrote to one another. Most of that wasn't really even sexual. It was intimate and romantic, and _that's _what we're missing here. I thought that's what we were hoping for with us."

T'Pol was quiet for a moment. But only long enough to steel herself, to stand her ground.

"Trip, understand this." She said, firmly. "I am not Human and I am not well equipped to pursue a relationship with you in a Human manner. Quickly developing a romantic and passionate relationship, only moving forward then to build intimacy and then from there attempting to establish a deep and abiding spiritual relationship on that inadequate foundation. I am not well equipped for that and I simply do not want it. I refuse to have it.

"Such relationships are weak and typically dysfunctional. They rarely last and offer little of value. I will not have that with you. Let us build intimacy first, develop our bond upon that foundation and work toward romance and passion once our bond developed enough to benefit from it. _That _is how a bond becomes permanent and reliable. That is what I intend to have with you.

"Sexual behavior is required for procreation, but it also serves a purpose within the mating bond as well. It is exists to support the bond. It presents a consistent need that we are able to fulfill in one another that encourages intimacy and mutual acceptance in the process of fulfilling it. It is not something upon which to build a relationship, however. To use it in that manner is destructive to the deep, abiding relationship that we _should _have."

"Okay," He said, immediately. "This may surprise you, but I get that. I understand the concept, T'Pol. And whatever you think, Humans have a long history of arranged marriages just like you people. Maybe we do things backwards _these _days but that's just cultural. It's not an inherently Human thing, so I'm not only perfectly capable of what you're describing, but that tends to work best for us, too. I'm fine with that.

"But…I'm not Vulcan either. I don't have time to waste here. I can't spend a decade or two letting things just gradually fall into place…"

"Trip, I understand. I admit that I have…pulled back recently but only because I was concerned for you. I wanted you to have time to adjust to the bond."

"Then what should we be doing now?" Trip pressed. "Because, T'Pol…I may not remember everything we did at Du'kar's place, but I remember one thing pretty clearly. I remember…I really missed all those mating rituals we used to do. The ones that helped make this bond happen in the first place. I missed just being with you and talking to you. I missed _touching _you. We haven't done anything like that in a while now…"

He huffed a little suddenly in frustration.

"T'Pol, I don't think I'm asking too much of you here." He said. "And you want to know what image keeps running through my head while I'm sitting here talking to you about all this? I mean, if you're worried that all I want to do now is get you in the sack, then I think you should know this. Do you want to know?"

T'Pol didn't say anything right away, so he was almost concerned.

She was looking at him, though…in a way she usually didn't. Hadn't for a while now, in fact. Her eyes soft and…almost seeming to _need _for him to say whatever he was about to say. Even if she couldn't possibly know what that was.

"Tell me." She said, softly.

So Trip steeled _himself _now, because he felt as if he were taking a big chance here…

"T'Pol…everything I can't really put into words all that well here…I've just got this picture in my head that I think must sum it up. It keeps running through my mind, anyway."

He took a deep breath.

"I keep picturing…just holding you. Just…standing there with my arms around you, holding you tight. And you've got your hands on my chest and your head just…resting right at my neck…and I'm just holding you tight. That's it. Just…that. And maybe that sounds stupid but that's what I want here. I don't think I've _ever _just held you like that, have I? Not as long as we've known each other. But that's what I want. So bad it…kinda hurts."

T'Pol just nodded. As if she had known after all.

"I also have something similar that I desire." She said, quietly.

And _that _surprised him.

"What?" He asked.

"I do not remember what happened at Du'kar's." She said, "At least, I don't remember as much as you, but having touched that in your mind I remember one thing now. I remember…laying with you, on the bed. After…we finished. I was very relaxed. Content and safe with you. All of my defenses were put aside, all my disciplines relaxed. I was…disheveled, in fact, and not merely in the physical sense.

"And Trip, I think you do not understand what that means. You know that Vulcans are, on average, significantly more intelligent than Humans. We naturally possess a greater mental acuity and overall capability. But most of this is dedicated to maintaining discipline. Defenses, self-control, patterns of thought and management of emotional suppression. These things are not easily put aside. Nor are they normally _safely _put aside.

"But I was able to do that with you. And that is what I desire from you."

She tossed an eyebrow though, before he could respond to that.

"I find it curious, actually." She said. "I seem to require a sense of security from you. A place where I can be vulnerable. You, meanwhile, seem to desire to provide that. That is quite convenient."

Trip chuckled a little. "I guess it is, isn't it? So what are we going to do about all this?"

"I have considered that and have already made several decisions in that regard. But now I find I'm curious what _you _have to say."

"You sure?" Trip asked. "Because I've thought about it, too. If you ask me, I'm going to tell you. In fact, I'm going to tell you what we're going to do here. So be sure before you ask."

"I am confident I can adjust to your requirement. Proceed."

"Okay. Once we've taken care of business here and we get back to the ship…we're sharing quarters. That's just for starters."

T'Pol blinked a bit at that. Because, no, she hadn't expected that at all. Nor was she quite prepared.

"Why?"

"Because we're bonded." Trip said. "Married, in a way. In fact, _more _than married if you get right down to it. So I find not sharing quarters with my _wife _completely unacceptable. Once we get back to the ship, someone's moving in with somebody."

"Because you require sexual relations regularly."

"Okay, look…no, T'Pol." Trip frowned. "I mean…well, yes. But that's not what this is all about…"

"Trip, let's settle that point first. Do you require a sexual relationship now or is that something you prefer to put off until our relationship overall had progressed further?"

"I'm willing to wait for that, T'Pol."

"That does not answer the question adequately, Trip."

"I can live without it." He said, firmly.

T'Pol paused…

"I see." She said, disappointed.

"Wait…you're _disappointed?"_

"Of course."

"What? Why? I though you just said you _didn't _want a relationship built on that."

"I do not. Of course I don't. Nor will I accept such a relationship."

"Then what are you disappointed about?"

"I assumed you require it, because you are male and Human. I would prefer that."

"Why?"

T'Pol just stared at him for a moment. Obviously trying to determine if she'd overestimated his intelligence up to now.

"Trip, it is intimate behavior. We are bonded. Naturally I would prefer to share that with you."

He almost smacked the table over all the frustration he was suddenly feeling.

"Okay, so why aren't we doing that then?" He asked. "What the heck did I miss here? I must have missed something."

"Trip, I was concerned that our bond would progress too quickly for you to adjust comfortably to it. For that reason I avoided various forms of intimate behavior, in order to slow the progression of the bond. Clearly I have underestimated your ability to adapt, as our behavior at the Du'kar compound has already accelerated the bond to the point where even sexual behavior is now productive."

Trip squinted a bit at that…then took a wild stab in the dark, hoping to pin things down before they got away from him.

"So…it's logical for us to be intimate now." He guessed. "We're not just talking about sex here, right? _Intimacy_."

"Yes. That has obviously become logical, with all levels of intimate behavior..."

"Okay, any chance we can stop talking now? Because I really like where we are and I don't want that to change."

"That will not change." T'Pol said. "In fact, I think that you are very insightful here. I admit that I had forgotten to avail myself of your intuitive grasp of emotional issues. Sharing quarters at this point in our bond would be very productive. It would require significant adjustment, of course, but that very process will strength our bond."

She looked to him then, to gauge his reaction to that.

And found the look on his face…and even the strange feeling coming across their bond…inscrutable.

A shadow suddenly fell across the table.

A young, very attractive shadow wearing a bright smile and not a whole lot else. Bronze skin, raven hair and bracelets made of tiny red flowers…

"Hello, I am A'She. Is there anything I can…?"

"Yeah, go away." Trip said, absently.

She went away. And Trip just kept _looking _at her, that strange feeling coming across their bond...

"What?" She asked, curiously.

Trip eyed her narrowly.

"You know…I just realized something." He said. "I love you, T'Pol, but you don't know any more about this stuff than I do. I've just been sitting back, letting you take the lead this whole time, because I don't know the first thing about how to have a Vulcan bond with somebody. But you don't either, do you?"

"I have never been bonded to a mate, so of course my experience is limited entirely to family relations…"

"Right, exactly. Maybe it's time I started taking the reins a little here. I hate to remind you again, but I actually do have some experience with this stuff."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that." She said, disapprovingly.

Because, no, she _didn't _appreciate being reminded of it and he knew that quite well already.

"Well, it turns out that's actually helpful here. I think it's time I stepped up a bit. Should have already."

"In what way?"

"Like sharing quarters." He said. "And kissing you whenever the hell I feel like it. Even in public. That's what the Vulcan kiss is _for_, isn't it? We're going to start talking about some things we should have already talked about. It's time I started learning just who the heck I'm married to and started showing you who _I _am. And we're going to start taking this bond seriously, too. Forget just letting it happen. You're going to tell me everything I need to know about it so we can get to _work _on it. We are going to start _acting _like we're married, damn it."

T'Pol found herself…entirely thrown for a loop all of a sudden.

But, of course…

"I…would find all of that agreeable…"

"Good. So saddle up, because that's what were doing."

"Very we-…what does 'saddle up' mean?"

"You'll figure it out."


End file.
